Stand By You
by JohnGreenGirl
Summary: Livy Harrison was left without a home and without a group after some especially tragic events. Though the start is rough, stumbling upon the prison may be the best thing that ever happened to Livy-especially where Daryl Dixon is involved.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue **_

* * *

The Georgia sun was blazing hot, but that was nothing new. The distant growls and haphazard footfalls of walkers wasn't new, either. What was new was the sight of the formerly overrun prison grounds cleared out and inhabited by regular, living people. Livy Harrison had just begun to smile at the sight when a shot rang out. The impact of the bullet sent her twisting in a half circle before falling to the ground.

"_Fuck_. That person was alive, Glenn!" Daryl Dixon yelled up to a guard tower where the young Korean was perched. Slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, he followed it up with a 'cover me' as he ran through the double layered prison gates. It didn't take Daryl long to reach her, and when he did, even the usually stern hunter had to smile.

"You are one lucky broad, ya know that?" The unconscious girl at his feet was wearing police Kevlar. At worst, she'd end up with some cracked ribs, which Hershel could easily tape up. Daryl easily scooped her up into his arms before moving low and fast towards the gates where Rick and Carl waited to help him in.

"Is she dead? Did Glenn...?" Rick asked, moving in quick tandem with his son to get Daryl inside safely. "Nah, man, look. She has a police vest." Daryl straightened for Rick to see. The girl was still out, but she was breathing. It was a little shaky, but she was more than alive. Rick looked down at the girl, taking in the color still staining her freckled cheeks. She looked around Maggie's age.

"Take her to Hershel. We can question her once she wakes up." Around that time, Glenn came running up to them. His face was terribly worried as he looked into Daryl's, but when he shook his head Glenn smiled and laughed with relief. "Oh, man. I really thought she was a walker with the way she was stumbling around out there. Oh, man. I could have killed her."

By this time, the whole group had gathered outside, curious about the commotion out front. Carol was handing the baby off to Beth while Maggie made her way to Glenn. Hershel stood carefully balanced on his crutches, and Michonne lingered in the back. She still didn't feel entirely a part of the group, especially with her only true connection being holed up in Woodbury. She would never understand why Andrea chose to stay there.

"I reckon Glenn figured she was a walker, or a Woodbury spy. Can't blame him for taking the shot either way," Daryl said to Hershel as he helped the old man and Carol undo the velcro straps of the vest. It hadn't been but a few weeks since they had saved Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury and Daryl had nearly died with his brother. But now Merle was down in the basement. He was safe. Not happy, but safe, and that's all that mattered to Daryl. When Carol lifted the girl's shirt to reveal a lacy blue bra, Daryl excused himself to talk to his brother.

Just because she hadn't come heavily armed didn't mean the girl hadn't been a part of Woodbury. If she was, though, chances were that Merle would recognize her. "Well well well. If it ain't my baby brother. To what do I owe this occasion?"

Daryl rolled his eyes. "If you'd be good, you could come outta here and hang out with me all day. Like old times." Flipping a chair so that it faced his brother, Daryl straddled it and rested his arms on its back. "A girl came up to the prison today. Looked about Maggie and Glenn's age, so early twenties. She got black curly hair in a braid and more freckles than anyone could count. Sound familiar at all? Know anyone like that from Woodbury?"

Merle chewed on a toothpick in a show of mock contemplativeness. He looked his brother up and down, thinking he needed a hair cut like nobody's business. His little brother had gone from lone wolf to sheriff's pet. But he was still Daryl and Merle still loved him. "What makes you think she was from Woodbury?" Merle asked around his toothpick.

"She was wearin' a police vest when she walked up. There was a gun in her holster and a knife strapped to her leg, but she was alone. I don't know. We just have to be careful. Looked to me like a girl who'd lost her group, but Rick won't want to take any chances. I thought maybe if you could help us out and say if she's Woodbury or not Rick might trust you a little more."

At that, Merle smirked at his brother. "Well, I reckon. You gonna just waltz me in to identify her and then we'll all be friends and hold hands? What even happened to her? Y'all take her captive?" Daryl rolled his eyes.

"No, Glenn shot her on accident. Thought she was a walker. She was stumblin' around, looked real weak to me. Either way, I'm tryin' to help you, so shut your trap and c'mon." The sound of the cell door unlocking sounded like temporary freedom to Merle, but he'd take anything over spending all day down there by himself again. He was getting cabin fever from it. Even if all the faces except one hated him, it would be good to have a change of scenery.

Hershel did not look pleased to see Merle out of his cell, but he kept his opinions to himself. As did Carol, for which Daryl was thankful. He wasn't keen on pissing off his friend. They had already finished taping up her ribs, but she was still out. Daryl re-evaluated the description he had given his brother and figured he should have added in the funny crooked scar on the girl's forehead. It was thin and silvery, but very long. It reminded him of his own scar from the time Andrea's bullet had grazed his head.

"Well, does she look familiar, brother?" Merle shook his head. "I can honestly say I ain't ever seen her. Unless Woodbury got a new wave of population after I left, there ain't no way she can be one of 'em." Hershel looked up at Daryl, who shrugged.

"Guess we'll go let Rick know. Y'all just watch her until she wakes up I suppose."


	2. Chapter One

**_Chapter One_**

* * *

_Oh God. Why can't I breathe right?_ I thought when I woke up. The sun was gone, and instead I saw a pale gray ceiling. "Oh! Hershel, she's awake. You'd best go get Rick." I heard someone say, and when I looked to my left I saw a woman with very short hair. She smiled.

"Hi, my name's Carol," she said, with a little wave. I tried to sit up and instantly regretted it. It felt like someone was repeatedly punching me in the ribs. "I'm Livvy," I said, or tried to. My throat was so dry that it came out as an awful rasp. Carol helped me sit up and gave me a canteen of water to drink from just as a man with dark curly hair and stubble walked in.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Rick Grimes. My people say you're not from Woodbury. Do you even know what that is?"

I shook my head. "No. Was that a town before? I'm Livy Harrison. Me and my people were lucky. We found an underground emergency shelter. It was small, but it was really well stocked. But, um, things went south. They... They gave up. Committed suicide, and they all turned. I barely got out alive." I looked down, remembering how hard it had been.

"I didn't even know for sure if there would be people here. We passed this place looking for somewhere to stay. We didn't have enough people to try to make this place a home, so we just left it. It was the closest place, though, so I had to check." I looked up at Rick Grimes. I couldn't tell if he believed me or not. His face was hard and blank.

"One of ours shot at you. Thought you was a walker. You were lucky to be wearin' that vest. Hershel here says he cracked some of your ribs. You're welcome to stay here at least until you heal, but if you can prove yourself you can stay with us."

He motioned towards a man with shaggy brown hair behind him. "We still don't have enough cells cleared out for you to have your own, so you'll be staying in Daryl's so he can keep an eye on you. We also confiscated your gun and knife."

"Oh," I said as Rick left the room. The man he identified as Daryl gave a curt nod and followed behind him. "Don't mind Rick," Carol said, taking a seat beside me. "He's been having a rough time of things. He recently lost his wife, and he's still taking on the responsibility of keeping us all safe."

I nodded, not really sure why a virtual stranger would be telling me this. She didn't owe me an explanation, but I owed these people my life. Carol asked if she could check my bandages, to make sure they were sticking. She explained that they didn't know how old some of the medical supplies they had found were, and Hershel was always a little worried they wouldn't work well.

Just as Carol was lowering my shirt back into place, a pretty blonde girl with a baby stopped inside the doorway. "Daddy said to tell y'all dinner is ready," she said with a tentative smile. The baby she was holding looked pretty young, maybe not more than a handful of months old.

"We'll be there in just a bit, Beth honey. Livy here just woke up, and cracked ribs are no joke." The girl nodded and walked away while Carol offered me a hand. I swung my feet over and winced. She was right; cracked ribs weren't a joke.

"I'm sorry I look so awful. All of y'all seem pretty well taken care of here." Carol gave a small laugh. "We found a generator in the basement of the prison. Sometimes we're able to make it work. The water isn't warm and I doubt it's all that clean, but it gets the job done."

Carol took me down to the cafeteria of the prison. Tables had been pushed together to make one long strip, like a huge dining table. A girl with short hair and Beth were putting food on the table. Rick was sitting beside Hershel and holding the baby now, and I figured it was his since Carol said he recently lost his wife. There was a little boy sitting in between Daryl and a black woman. On the other side of Daryl sat a man whose arm suddenly ended in a hunk of metal. A young Asian man walked through the door and promptly kissed the girl with short hair on the cheek.

A whole lot of eyes turned to look at me at once, and I felt myself blush. "Um, hello." I said. Again Daryl nodded and the man beside him said "'Mornin', Sunshine." Beth and the girl with short hair smiled, but the Asian boy looked uncomfortable.

"I-I'm sorry about your ribs. I'm the one who shot you. I'm Glenn, and this is Maggie and Beth." I smiled back at them as Carol finished introductions by telling me that the boy was Rick's son Carl, the baby was his sister Judith, the man sitting beside Daryl was his brother Merle, and the young black woman was Michonne.

"It's okay," I told Glenn. "I would have done the same. You were just protecting your people." Carol led me to sit across from Hershel and Rick. I could tell that Rick was exhausted. There were bags under his eyes and he looked much older than I suspected he was.

"How are those ribs holding up?" Hershel asked with what I could only describe as a grandfatherly smile. "Oh, they're okay! Sore, but that's expected. Thank y'all for your help. All of y'all," I said, looking around the table. "Getting shot was a stroke of luck. I wasn't going to last much longer out there." I smiled over at Glenn when I said it and he blushed while Maggie bumped him with her shoulder.

Their dinner seemed to have been raided from the food stores of the prison, but I didn't care. Food was food and I hadn't seen any in days. Who cared if it was a sad excuse for stroganoff?

"Where'd ya come from, Sunshine?" Merle asked. He didn't seem to care that Carol had told everyone my name was Livy. "Originally? New Mexico. I came to Georgia for college, and then this mess started. After, I was with some of the students that lived in the dorms and apartments around mine."

Merle started chuckling and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Tell me, Sunshine, you ever see the chupacabra?" The question reminded me of a time in high school, and I felt the color rising in my cheeks. "Well, I'm not gonna say I saw it, but one time me and some high school buddies went on a chupacabra hunt after a neighbor's goats started going missing..."

This caused Merle to burst into a fit of laughter while Daryl grumbled under his breath. The other members of the group laughed, too, but not with near as much gusto as Merle. He even wiped a tear from his eye. "Shiiit, Sunshine. You're gonna be shackin' up with my baby brother while you heal, right? Y'all can bond over the chupacabra. Might even get yerself a husband out of it."

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head and I smiled apologetically at him. Rick looked up from his daughter, who was eagerly sucking on a bottle. "What happened to your group? If you don't mind me askin'." The question sent a shiver down my spine that did not do good things for my ribs.

I sighed, which also hurt, and began my story. "Like I said, I met up with some people from around my college. There was housing for students with families, too, so there was this young couple and their baby with us. We were on the road for awhile, just camping out wherever we could. And then... This is going to sound pretty ridiculous, but we literally stumbled upon this fallout shelter. I guess some rich family had it build out in the woods not far behind a pretty swanky looking neighborhood filled with walkers."

I stopped to take a drink from my glass of water. "There were six of us, including the baby. Nobody was in the shelter, not even any walkers, so we didn't have to clear it out. I guess the family never made it there, which is pretty sad but it was lucky for us. I, um, I ran track so they would always send me out for runs. The night that everything happened, I had gone out alone to check the traps another of our group members had set up. We had so much food in there, but we were trying to save the canned stuff just in case we ever needed it."

Everyone must have known the end of the story was coming because it suddenly seemed like everyone was leaning forward. "The baby, he wasn't healthy. He never had been. That boy was sick from the day he was born and his parents knew even before the world went to hell that he wasn't going to live long. While I was out checking traps, he died. We didn't know then that everyone turns whether you were bitten or not. So when his parents promptly committed suicide after their son died, they came back, too. The others weren't prepared for that. They all turned and I had no idea." "So, yeah, I walked into an underground cave of walkers. I locked 'em up all in one room and got the hell out of there. I had been stumbling around for nearly a week when I made it to the prison and saw all y'all here. Thank you for bringing me in. I wouldn't have made it much longer."

There was a general sound of 'you're welcome' coming from around the table. We finished dinner with talking of chores and things that needed to be done. I was instructed to help Hershel plant the fields. I offered to help wash dishes, but I was shooed off by Carol and Beth and told to follow Daryl to his cell. Glenn and Rick took Merle by the arms and led him away. For some reason, it seemed like they only trusted one brother, and that was pretty odd to me.

"You can sleep on the bottom bunk," Daryl said once we got there. "I figure you're not fit for the top bunk with them ribs. Best be gettin' to sleep. Hershel will wanna start early." Daryl handed me an orange jumpsuit. "For pajamas. I figured you wouldn't wanna wear those clothes much longer. Carol and Beth'll probably wash 'em for ya if you ask."

With that, Daryl left the room so I could change. It was hard, what with the ribs, but I managed to get it done. I layed down on the bottom bunk. It wasn't much comfortable, but it was certainly better than the ground. I fell asleep in minutes.


	3. Chapter Two

**_Chapter Two_**

* * *

In my dream, I could hear Jordan crying. That baby was always crying. The poor thing never felt very good. I got up from my bed on the floor and walked through the tiny shelter to the other room, stepping around sleeping bodies so as not to wake anyone. Why weren't his parents tending to him?

When I walked into the other room where his makeshift crib was, he suddenly stopped. It didn't look like he was breathing anymore. I reached out to him and suddenly his eyes popped open but they weren't his eyes. They were the milky, sickly yellow eyes of a walker. His arms shot out, shockingly strong, pulling my hand towards his tiny baby teeth. All the while he screaming awful throaty, grunting noises and hisses.

I pulled my arm away from him, hoping he wouldn't hop up and follow me. But when I turned around, I saw Jordan's parents, their throats slit and still oozing blood as they clawed at me.

I slammed my head off Daryl's top bunk when I sat up, trying to wake myself from the dream. "Ow, dammit," I whispered, cupping my forehead. Daryl was down on the ground in seconds, his crossbow aimed at the doorway.

"What? Oh, I forgot about you," he said after sweeping the room and finally set his eyes on me. I was shaky and I could feel the tears on the verge of falling, but I tried to smile at him.

"I'm sorry. I had a bad dream." My voice broke over the words. I could barely see Daryl in the dim light of the moon, but he looked unsure of himself from what I could make out.

"Was it about your people?" he asked after several long seconds. I took a shaky breath and nodded. Daryl watched me a moment longer and then nodded in reply and moved to climb back up to the top bunk. Without thinking about the fact that I hadn't even known this man a whole twenty four hours, I reached out and slipped my hand into his.

"I'm so sorry," I said pulling my hand away from his quickly. "I'm sorry." I could feel the blood filling my entire face. If the lights were on, he would have seen one hell of a blush.

"It's okay," he whispered. He didn't smile, but his voice was sincere. I layed back down, but couldn't roll away from him due to my ribs so I closed my eyes instead. Shortly after, I heard his bed creak as it took on his weight.

* * *

It felt amazing to be able to feel the sun on my back and be able to enjoy it without having to worry about walkers attacking me. Glenn and Maggie were walking along the inside of the outer fence and taking down walkers that were gathering there. I was helping Hershel plant seed in rows of dirt that Carl and Michonne had turned up.

I didn't know for sure, but I guessed that the fact that someone was always up in the guard tower had something to do with this Woodbury place Rick had mentioned the day before. Rick himself was up in the tower, scanning the horizon in all directions.

"How do you like the prison so far?" Hershel asked. He was seated near the little garden, instructing me which seeds to put in what row. I hadn't realized until today that he wasn't merely crippled, he was missing his entire leg below the knee.

"It's nice here. It feels safe. The shelter was okay, but going outside was always scary since we were underground. We never knew if there would be walkers by the latch above ground." As far as any of us could tell, it was early spring out, but it was still hot. According to Hershel, he was hoping these crops would grow by fall.

"There was so much stuff in that thing. Baby stuff, too. I feel kind of bad knowing all the things that there are that could be used for Judith. Do you think Rick would be interested in going to get them?" Even if Rick decided he didn't want me to stay here with them, I wanted Judith to have those things. Especially the clothes. The family that built that shelter must have had a baby daughter, because there were baby girl clothes there. I remembered how Jordan had to sleep in frilly nightgowns. It brought tears to my eyes.

"That's something you'll have to bring up with Rick, but I'm sure he'd appreciate it. It does get rough trying to provide for that little girl."

The roar of a motorcycle broke the silence as Daryl came barreling toward the gates. He circled around the prison, giving Glenn and Maggie time to get to the gates to open them as well as drawing the walkers away from the gates. The walkers didn't stand a chance of keeping up with the motorcycle.

"Did you get anything?" Carl asked as soon as Daryl was inside the gates. He had gone hunting in the words early in the morning. Even though the group ate three times a day, the portions were small to conserve food. I could tell that it wasn't easy on Carl to always be a little bit hungry.

"You bet I did," he said and showed Carl the contents of the bag. "Me an' Merle are gonna skin these and clean 'em. We'll have some squirrel stew by supper time." I had also figured that Merle must have had something to do with this Woodbury thing at one point. It didn't make sense as to why they would keep him separated from the group but let Daryl have such a big role in it.

"We better check up on those ribs before supper and lights out. Could you get my crutches for my, Livy?" Hershel was really so grandfatherly. It made me miss my own grandfather. Luckily, he had died before the walkers had come, so he never had to see the hell on earth. "Sure thing, Hershel," I said with a smile.

Even though I was terribly curious about what Woodbury was and what threat it posed to this group, I decided my first real day there was not a good time to ask questions. Instead, Hershel and I made small talk while he prodded my bruised side and retaped my ribs.

"Is staying in Daryl's cell working out okay for you? I know he can seem rough around the edges, but he's a good man. He's done more for me and my family than I could ever repay." I had just learned that Hershel counted Glenn in his family, and that he didn't think Maggie could have ever found a better man even without the apocalypse happening.

"Oh, it's fine, really. I mean, it's no slumber party by any stretch, but I don't have any issues with it." Taping hurt something awful, and I knew Hershel was keeping up small talk to distract me from the pain. "How long before this will heal?"

"About three weeks, usually. If all's clear by then, you should offer to take Rick to that shelter to get things for Judith. Might improve your chances of stayin' here." Again, I got Hershel his crutches and offered him my hand. "I didn't mean to imply earlier... I really would like for y'all to have those things, even if I don't stay here. It's more than I would ever need and it would just go to waste."

"That's kind of you. You should go rest. Planting surely put some strain on you today, and we don't wanna complicate this any. I wouldn't have the means to treat anything internal. There's a library down that way," Hershel said, pointing down the catwalk of cells with his crutch.

A lot of the books in the library were murder mystery novels, and I was just thinking that it must have been some sort of sick joke for the prison workers when I heard a knock on the doorway. I guess I must have been looking through the massive room for a lot longer than I thought, because when I turned Daryl was leaning against the wall.

"Ya want food?" He was looking decidedly dirtier after his day of hunting. His hair was still wet from sweat for the most part and his clothes and face were streaked with mud. Still, his eyes were a pretty, intense blue.

"Oh, yeah. That'd be great."

"Then you'd best hurry before Merle takes your portion for his own." He started walking without waiting for me. Daryl walked in front of me the entire way, leading me back to the mess hall where everyone was sitting down to eat.

Hershel, Beth, and Maggie were holding hands, saying Grace over there food. It was really amazing that they were still so strong in their faith. I mean, I still believed in God, but I was too mad at Him to offer my thanks.

Dinner passed much the same way that it had the day before, with general discussions. Sometimes Merle or Carol threw a question my way, but for the most part I was quiet. I wasn't really a member of the group, and it was obvious. I was more ostracized than Merle, and I wasn't kept in a cell all day. Still, dinner was nice in the dim light of candles and kerosene lanterns. And Carl was right, this squirrel stew Carol made was much heartier than anything I'd eaten in a long while.

I wasn't looking forward to lights out. That meant going to bed, which meant sleeping. Which meant nightmares. Again at the end of the meal, Rick gave Judith to her brother and assisted Glenn in escorting Merle out.

"C'mon," Daryl said to me, but he was watching his brother. He didn't look happy.

"I'm supposed to lock ya in here, seeing as I have night watch half the night tonight, but I ain't gonna do that. You're no criminal. I'm just gonna shut the door, but don't go letting the others know." I didn't know what could have inspired this, but I thanked him all the same. Daryl took his crossbow and left.

* * *

I sincerely hoped that leaving the cell didn't attract anyone's attention. I just couldn't take sitting indoors in the dark anymore. It reminded me too much of the shelter, and I needed to be outside where I could breath without feeling like I was drowning on land. I just hoped Daryl was still on watch.

Slipping out of one of the side doors proved to be easier than it looked. Outside was a totally different atmosphere than during the day. It was still muggy and warm, and I could hear the buzzes and chirps of insects as well as walker moans and groans. I knew it was still safe with the two fences, but something about the dark of night always made walkers seem closer than they were.

I made my way over to the watch tower that I always saw one of the group manning. Just barely in the light of moons and stars, I could see Daryl's crossbow perched on the edge of the watchtower's balcony, poised and ready to shoot any threat.

I knew I was probably pushing boundaries, but I didn't want to be alone and I couldn't go to anyone else since no one was supposed to know that I wasn't locked in Daryl's cell for real. So I started to climb up the tall ladder to the watchtower balcony, even though raising my arms stabbed at my ribs.

"Thought I told you to stay in the cell." The man must have had super sensitive hearing from his years as a hunter.

"Well. You did, but I, uh. I couldn't take it in there. I couldn't sleep and it's suffocating in there." He looked over at me. For the first time I could actually make out the expression on his face. It looked like he was torn, like he was considering something.

"Yeah. I know what you mean." Daryl scooted over. He didn't outright ask me to sit with him. He didn't even pat the spot beside him. But I took it. I pulled myself all the way onto the balcony and sat beside Daryl, quite a few inches in between us for good measure.


	4. Chapter Three

_**Chapter Three**_

* * *

"It's nice outside," I said, looking up towards the stars. "If you bug me with small talk, I _will_ lock ya in my cell."

"Sorry." I pulled the elastic out of my hair and started to unbraid it so that I could re-do it. It was always so hard to untangle all of my amazingly unruly curls without a mirror, but I could feel it starting to mat. If Daryl didn't want to talk, I'd have to occupy myself somehow.

"How in the hell do you get all of that into a braid?" he asked as soon as all my hair was free. I shook my head to loosen it and it only got bigger. "Impressive, huh? The perks of having an Italian grandmother."

Daryl looked me over while I finger-combed my hair. "You gonna tell me what happens in them bad dreams of yours, or did you come out here to bond or somethin'?" I had actually gone outside to try to avoid thoughts about my nightmares, so I sent Daryl a glare to try to convey that. I finished braiding my hair before answering him.

"If you really want to know, it's about the baby we had with my group. His name was Jordan. He wasn't much older than a year. His parents said he had some kind of disease, but I couldn't pronounce the name of it if my life depended on it. All I know is that it shortened his life span. One day, he just died. Like I said the other night, I wasn't there."

The only recognition Daryl gave me was a nod, so I continued. "I'm sure you've heard Judith pitching a fit when she's hungry, right? Screaming her head off. And I know you've heard walker noises. But imagine those two together. A baby screaming, but not like a high pitched wail like a baby should make. Like a walker noise, but longer and louder. That's what I hear in my dreams."

I started shaking just thinking about it, so I wrapped my arms around myself carefully to avoid my bandages. Daryl sat looking out at the walkers bumping into each other and going nowhere while he chewed on his thumb nail.

"We should go in. Glenn will be takin' over for me soon. I'll walk ya in, get the cell door shut real good again so no one'll question it." Daryl went down the ladder first and then waited at the bottom for me. When I slipped on one of the last rungs, I felt his hands wrap around my hips to steady me.

"Easy. I don't know what in the hell you were thinkin', climbin' up a ladder with cracked ribs." With his hands securing me, I carefully made my way back down. "Thank you," I said when I had my feet on the ground. Daryl moved his hands away and grunted.

Back inside the prison, we all but tiptoed so as not to disturb anybody. Daryl moved so quietly at all times, like a ghost. Once I was back in the cell and the bars were closed, Daryl all but sprinted back down the catwalk to make it back outside. Not even a minute later I heard Glenn's sleepy, heavy footsteps.

* * *

I had been at the prison for a little over a week when Andrea showed up. Her arrival disrupted a routine of helping with chores, attempting to make friends with the group, and sneaking out during the nights that Daryl had duty. She came around noon. I had just had my first shower in a long, long time after Hershel had carefully covered the tape on my side with plastic.

I was sitting in the grass with Beth and Judith to let my hair dry when the sound of tires on grass and walker bones caught everyone's attention. Carl, who had been shooting hoops on the basketball court, was suddenly alert with his gun in his hand like a tiny child soldier. Beth scooped Judith up and I helped her get back into the prison quickly. Carol aimed her gun from the guard tower as Beth tore inside, yelling for Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Glenn, and Maggie.

As the others marched outside, Rick pressed my gun into my hand and motioned for me to come with them. "We need all hands possible." Even Merle was with them. Carol called down to us from the tower after looking through her binoculars. She sounded dumbfounded.

"It's Andrea. Guys, it's Andrea!" The shock on the faces of the group was immediate. I had no idea who this person was, but it apparently meant a lot to everybody else. Carefully, Daryl and Rick opened the outer gate so that she could drive through. "Hot damn, Blondie came back," Merle said, shaking his head.

I watched as Rick first checked the car the blonde woman had driven into the outer area and then hugged her. When I looked back at Michonne, she was smiling. It wasn't like a full on, toothy smile, but it was a grin and it was the first time I'd seen her look even a little bit happy.

"What is she doing here?" Carl asked, seeming to be the only one not pleased with the arrival. Andrea was ushered into the prison yard and everyone started talking at once.

"Milton helped me get out," she said to Merle. "I should have gone with you guys when y'all came for Daryl." Andrea squeezed Michonne's arm when she finally reached her. It seemed the two were friends. Michonne was so quiet and kept to herself so often that the idea was almost foreign, even though I liked her.

"You should have come with me when I left." Michonne said in a tone that implied gentle scolding.

Somehow, for the first time I'd ever been there, everyone ended up inside with no one in the guard tower. Everyone seemed happy and free, which was also new. I was used to this group's extreme cautiousness, and this sight was entirely new. With everyone seated in the mess hall, Andrea finally noticed something was different about her groups of friends.

"Who are you?" She asked. "Where's Shane? And Lori? And T-Dog?" The names quieted everything instantly. Rick excused himself to find Beth and the baby. I figured Lori must have been Rick's dead wife I had heard about in passing, but I had no idea who Shane and T-Dog were.

"They're all dead." Carl said without missing a beat. That kid could be sweet one moment and unsettling the next. "And her name is Livy." With that, he too left the room. Carol wrapped her arm around Andrea; she was visibly shaken.

Rick returned with the baby in his arms and Beth in tow. I had noticed that Rick liked to have Judith with him when he was feeling stressed or upset. "This is Judith," he said. It seemed that was all the explanation Andrea needed as to what had happened to Lori.

"Livy joined us not long ago. She lost her group." Rick didn't mention the part where I could be asked to leave soon. I didn't know if this was because he'd decided I could stay or because he wanted the group to appear as big and strong as he could.

"I see," Andrea was looking around the prison. "I came here to warn you. The Governor wants this place. He wants to meet with you, Rick. Says he wants to do this 'peacefully' if possible. Work out a fair trade of sorts."

Daryl was standing behind me, mumbling. "That fuckin' psycho don't know how to play fair." I heard Merle clap his brother on the should. "Don't worry 'bout it, baby brother. We'll make him sorry he ever messed with us Dixons."

"He's not having the prison. I got Judith and Carl to think about. Hershel's only got one leg now, and besides that he has Beth. We've built a life here. We have too much invested here, and your Governor isn't going to take it from us."

"He isn't _my_ Governor," Andrea asserted. Maybe she was some kind of spy for this group? I still didn't understand what had caused the bad blood between the two groups, but it seemed like this Governor was nothing more than jealous and selfish.

"Maybe y'all will be able to work something out. There are a lot of people in Woodbury, and it's getting harder and harder to keep them safe. The town just isn't up to it. Maybe they could come here and-"

Rick cut her off by slamming his palms down on the table in front of her. "There is no _fucking_ way I'm letting that lunatic around my children! I'll die before I let him take this place from them."

Andrea was visibly stricken. There was nothing she could do, though. Rick gave Judith to Carol and left the room. It seemed that his decision was final. Without Rick there to give the information to, she directed her attention to Daryl and Hershel.

"He wants to meet with Rick, in a little barn about halfway between Woodbury and the prison. Phillip said he thought it would be best to do it on nuetral ground. If Daryl's willing to go with me today, I can show him the location, but then I have to leave. I have to get back to Woodbury before he notices I'm gone."

"I'll come," Daryl said. "But I'm taking Merle with me. I ain't about to walk into one of his traps. We better get goin'. We don't want this kindly Governor of yours to rough you up too bad for disobeyin' him."

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and then took the liberty of giving Merle a gun. "What're you waiting for?" He asked Andrea as he walked off.

Those of us remaining were a little unsure what to do with ourselves after Merle and Andrea scrambled to follow Daryl. Glenn offered to take over Carol's shift so that she could watch the baby. Beth said she was going to go find Carl. Maggie stood to help her father and Michonne left without a word.

I walked the halls until I found Rick in a side room of the prison. He was pacing back and forth, and his face looked stern. I knocked a bit on the door frame to get his attention.

"Oh. Livy." He said. He had pulled his gun from its holster but hadn't quite raised it to a reasonable level to shoot anyone. Or thing.

"I wanted to give this back to you," I said, holding out my own gun. "And to tell you Daryl and Merle went with Andrea. She said this Governor man everyone has been talking about wants to meet with you tomorrow. She took them to show them the building."

Rick too my gun from me and nodded. I knew he was young, maybe in his mid thirties, but his graying hair and stubble made him seem older, as did the bags under his eyes. He didn't speak again, so I nodded in return and left.

I didn't know what was going on with this group I had found myself in, but none of it seemed very good.


	5. Chapter Four

Andrea coming to the prison in a vehicle had attracted more walkers than we usually had around the outer gate. Armed with pipes and stout branches that had been sharpened on the ends, Carl and I were sent to the perimeter to thin them out. Carl was a quiet kid, but he answered questions asked of him.

Through asking him questions I had learned he was fairly certain he was either almost thirteen or had already turned thirteen because he had been twelve when this all started. I told him I had been nineteen, but very close to my twentieth birthday, so by the time fall ended, I would be twenty-one. I told him a little bit about Jordan and he told me he had been there when Judith was born and he was the one to name her. We didn't talk about the dead on either side of our stories. I had gathered, though, that the two rough-hewn crosses on the south side of the prison belonged to Lori and either Shane or T-dog.

The sun was already setting when we heard Daryl's motorcycle grumbling towards the gates. Carl and I were quick to let them back in. Daryl was driving and his brother had one arm casually slung around his waist while he used the other to bludgeon walkers as they went by. I never in my life thought I'd see two men so nonchalantly ride a motorcycle together and the sight made me giggle.

"What are you laughin' at? See somethin' funny, Sunshine?" It seemed Merle was never going to let go of that nickname he had stuck me with.

"Just looked like you were having fun taking out walkers is all," I said, offering Merle a hand to get off the bike. He placed his metal prosthetic, covered in guts and foul, black blood, into my palm. I grimaced and he laughed wildly while Daryl muttered at him to knock it off. I wiped my hand off on the grass thoroughly, but I was definitely going to wash it once we got inside.

Daryl offered me a rag from his pocket and his water canteen once we were through the inner gate. "Sorry about that."

"It's cool. He's your brother, not my mine. I don't have to put up with him," I said playfully, giving Daryl a smile and a wink. I got a smirk and a shake of the head in response. Daryl waited while I rinsed my hand off before walking with me into the prison.

After spending well over an hour talking to Daryl and Hershel, Rick announced at dinner that the three of them would be leaving for the location the Governor wanted to meet at bright and early the following morning. Hopefully, Rick said, this could be settled easily. Glenn and Maggie volunteered to take extra night shifts so Rick and Daryl could sleep the whole night in preparation. Lights out would be immediately after sundown.

The tone of the group was drastically different than what I was used to. There was no joking, no excited talk about something Judith had learned to do. Beth didn't sing, as she often did following dinner while she helped Carol collect the dishes. Instead, immediately after cleaning our plates, Hershel offered his hand to Beth, who offered hers to Carol. I ended up with my hands clasped in Daryl's and Michonne's. His were dry and rough and sturdy, while Michonne's were surprisingly soft and delicate for a woman who wielded her sword like an extension of her own body.

Hershel bowed his head and we all followed suit, but he didn't pray out loud. I knew Hershel was a religious man; he and his daughters read Bible verses together every night, but he didn't impose it on us. I don't know how many of us prayed. I didn't know what to pray for, so I just held tight to Michonne's hand, but even tighter to Daryl's. I could feel him squeeze back.

None of us talked much after dinner. Daryl escorted Merle back to his cell. I helped Maggie re-make all of our beds in our cells with the freshly cleaned sheets Carol gave us. Rick took Judith and Carl to prepare them for bed. I could hear Rick telling Carl that he needed him to watch over Judith and not to let Beth get scared, to help me tend to Hershel's crops and help Carol to clear the perimeter. "I'm counting on you, little man," he said.

I was still fluffing up the pillows on Daryl's top bunk bed when he walked into the cell.

"You ain't gotta do that," he said, leaning against the door frame but also not stopping me. I shrugged and arranged his pillows before sitting on my bed. His hair was dripping a little bit and he smelled like the clean, plain soap from the communal shower. He was wearing the orange jumpsuit that a lot of the group wore as pajamas.

"Y'all have a big day ahead. Might as well be comfortable tonight." It was pitch black already. All the candles and hand lanterns had been put out as soon as everyone was in their cells. I could barely see Daryl, a more solid black than his surroundings.

"Daryl?" I asked as he moved through the darkness towards his bunk. He was quiet until he had hoisted himself up. "What?"

"How bad is this Governor guy?" His sigh reached long into the quiet dark.

"He's pretty damn bad, but it ain't nothing that we can't handle. Go to sleep, Livy." I rolled over onto my non-injured side and snuggled into my blanket.

"Sweet dreams, Daryl." I couldn't help but smile at the grunt he gave in reply.

He was gone when I woke up the next day. Daryl must have left very quietly, because I didn't wake up until Carol had moved the heavy blanket hanging over the cell door to block the light.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I sleep too long?" I asked, pushing wayward curls off my face and rubbing my eyes.

"No, you're fine. Hershel said to let you sleep a little longer before he left. Said that sleep heals bones. I'm surprised Daryl didn't wake you when he left." I shrugged, looking up at Carol. She was always very kind and motherly, especially towards Beth and Judith.

"Where are the others?" I asked, even though the question I've been dying to ask Carol for days is:_Do you think Rick will let me stay_? I was hoping he would, even if it were for no other reason than he needed extra hands.

The day was slow. I tended to Hershel's crops, pruning away dead pieces for the compost pile. I played some basketball with Carl while Beth tickled Judith in the warm grass. All the while, Maggie and Glenn stood watch in separate watch towers. Michonne continuously walked around the outer gate, taking out walkers. When they piled too high I knew she and Daryl and Rick would burn them. I helped Carol plan and set aside a good supper for when Rick, Daryl, and Hershel return.

"They'll likely need a pick me up after talking to that loony of a man," she said while we sliced wild mushrooms Daryl had collected. We also had fresh meat, squirrel meat, but it was food. Daryl had shot all of them cleanly through the head. I had a feeling if it weren't for Daryl, we would have been hardpressed for food. Hershel's crops were young still, not yet exactly bursting with bounty.

For the first time I saw how Carol managed to cook inside the prison. Someone had completely cleared a back room of the cafeteria/kitchen area of any and all things flammable, leaving only pots and pans. In a closet Carol opened sat stacks of wood for a fire, and in another hung strings of dried fruit and meat, rows of canned foods on the floor.

"Daryl taught us how to make jerky and how to dry provisions out for the winter. He's a real pioneer man," Carol said with a laugh. "He's a survival genius."

We started up a fire and she filled a pan from a barrel of water. "Even though we have a pretty reliable water supply from the well, we collect rain water, too. Just in case anything should ever happen to the well. When we were staying on Hershel's farm, a walker fell into one of the wells, completely contaminating it."

I've gathered from stories that this group had a hard time of things. We were pretty content for a long time in that bunker until Jordan... But they all seemed stronger for it. Better equipped for the world we lived in. They did things we never would have thought of. Collecting rainwater, making jerky. These were the kinds of things that you did when you knew you had to survive longterm. My group and I were still under the delusion that we were going to be saved from this hell. We hadn't planned ahead at all, which is why I was so worse for wear when, luckily, Glenn had shot me.

Using a few of the squirrels and a couple cans of vegetables we managed to make a stew that really wasn't half bad. All the crackers in the prison were more like hardtack than anything else, but Carol promised they softened up once you put them in liquids and they weren't showing any signs of mold, so we decided to bring them out for dinner too.

"Do you know if there's any tea bags? I know how to make sun tea. We could make a few pitchers of it if we set it out now." I asked and we were able to find a box of Lipton after rummaging around. I set two big pitchers in a sun facing window and went out to see to Hershel's crops while Carol watched over dinner.

Carl was sitting amongst them, pulling out tiny leaves of grass before they had a chance to encroach and choke out the crops. The sheriff's hat he usually wore was sitting beside him on the ground, but as I walked up he picked it up and used it to fan himself.

"There's no escaping this heat, huh? It was so hard for me to get used to the humidity when I first moved here." I really liked Carl. He was a good kid, always trying to help. I knew he was much younger, but I considered him an equal. Kids didn't get to be kids in this world, and that was sad, but it was more dangerous to try to maintain their innocence. They needed to be educated on how to survive this world.

"People who moved to New Mexico after living somewhere else would always say, 'It's hot, alright, but at least it's a _dry _heat'. I never understood that until freshmen move in day for college. When it gets hot here, it feels like you're swimming on land with all this humidity"

Carl could also be extremely quiet. I could tell being separated from his father scared him. He smiled, but he didn't answer, so I picked up the water buckets and took them inside to fill them up. The sun was barely in its midway point in the sky. The day was long with Rick, Daryl, and Hershel gone. We were all on our guard, even Beth who was keeping Judith indoors and solidly near the middle of the prison, away from windows and outer walls.

"It's just going to get worse," Carl said, pulling weeds out of the tough earth. I got a pail and filled it up, watering the ground so that it would be easier to pull the weeds out. The heat was truly awful, making my hair frizz out of its braid and sweat pool beneath my clothes.

"You should put your hat back on, Carl. Your face will burn." The voice came from Michonne, walking towards us from the fences. "Are you done watering? I need to clean this off," she said, showing me her sword. It was covered in blood and guts.

"Yeah, here." We all three sat there for a while, Carl and I pulling weeds and Michonne meticulously cleaning her sword.

"Can't let it stay dirty for long and get rusted and dull," she was telling Carl. "I would definitely be caught dead if this baby ever went bum on me."

Our chores were soon done and I was left without much to do other than stoke the coals keeping dinner warm. Michonne and Carol took turns in the watch towers with Maggie and Glenn and Carl went inside to help Beth with Judith. Before taking the kitchen over from Carol, I grabbed a book from the prison's library. For a men's prison it was surprisingly full of smut romance novels.

I was reading a particularly cheesy one about a pirate and his exotic Indian mistress when I heard the already familiar sound of Daryl's motorcylce. That thing was _loud_. If the perimeters weren't so regularly cleared, those walkers would be on that thing in a minute. I wasn't sure if I should go out there or just wait, so I stayed sitting down. I didn't have to wait long though, because everyone, even Merle, was crowding into the cafeteria within minutes.

The mood was not joyous. Rick looked strained, Daryl's face was hard and unreadable, and Hershel kept glancing nervously at Rick. But trust Merle to totally ignore the serious mood in the room.

"Romance novels! I thought this was a man's prison! I guess that whole don't drop the soap thing really held true in some places." Daryl punched him pretty hard for that one and then nodded towards Rick, who hadn't even seemed to hear the comment.

"Before we eat, I need to tell y'all some things," he said, and everyone came closer, forming a semi circle around him.

"The Governor was 'kind' enough to offer us a peace treaty. In return for leaving us alone, he wanted me to hand over Michonne." I think there was a collective gasp here, and when I glance at Michonne, she looked amazingly stoic. She kept her eyes trained on Rick.

"That's not who we are. We don't sacrifice our friends and family to mad men. He gave me a deadline to get Michonne to Woodbury, but I have a strong feeling we're going to miss it. Because of this, we're going to have to prepare. We'll need weapons, medical supplies, food storages." I looked around and everyone seemed pretty antsy. Beth had Judith pressed against her, and Carl was close beside her. Maggie had one arm around Carol while also holding Glenn's hand. Hershel was watching Rick, and I thought he looked almost proud of him.

"It's going to be tough, but I know all of you are survivors. You've proven that time and again. I feel okay when I say this. I feel like we can more than handle it. We aren't going to give up Michonne. We aren't monsters like that man."

Even though he had already said this, there was a collective sigh. The air in the room was almost static. I think everyone knew where we were heading, but no one wanted to say it out loud. That would make it too real, I think. But Rick didn't have these qualms.

"We're going to war."


	6. Chapter Five

With Hershel's one leg and Judith being just weeks old, our choices were limited. It seemed perfectly clear that we would stay at the prison. We would stock up on supplies and weaponry. We would fortify our walls. We would wait.

One of the only options we did have concerned the fall out bunker I had come from.

"Livy," Rick called from across the prison yard. He was repairing a weak spot in the fence with Carl. When I looked up from helping Hershel, he was waving me over.

"Do you need me to help you up before I go?" I asked Hershel, but he smiled and shook his head. He was elbows deep in the dirt, planting some seeds Glenn had found in a rec room inside the prison.

"What's up, Rick?" I asked. Sometimes I wasn't entirely sure that Rick saw what was in front of him. He looked spaced out very often, and it was a little worrying. But everyone around still put their entire trust in him as a leader, so I did too.

"That bunker you were in before, do you remember where it is? If I sent you and Daryl and Glenn, could you guys find it and get whatever supplies are there?" I nodded.

"Yeah, of course. It's pretty deep in the woods and it's camouflaged, but I can find it. I've done it dozens of times."

"All right, good. Good. Y'all are leaving as soon as Michonne and Carol take over watch. Take as much as you can, whatever is there. We could use anything. You could use some clothes yourself, so you don't have to keep wearin' a prison jumper," he said and he almost smiled. Almost. Moments like these were enough to keep my faith that Rick was sound enough for this.

"I'll go tell Hershel." When I did, Hershel told me not to worry.

"Glenn and Daryl are good men, but I'm sure you already know that. And be careful, you still aren't healed up all the way. Let them do the heavy work." I agreed with him. Even helping him in the fields could sometimes make me exhausted and in pain.

We took a van out to the edge of the woods. Glenn stayed in the car as a look out and so we could be ready if we needed to leave in a hurry. Rick had given me my gun and knife back for the trip, and Daryl had plenty of arrows for his crossbow.

"I don't reckon you have any more of these things in that shelter, do ya?" he asked, patting his arrows.

"No, just a lot of guns, ammo, and knives. Michonne might get a new sword out of this, but you won't be getting new arrows."

I wasn't kidding when I told Rick that it was very deep in the words. I'd say we'd been hiking for around fifteen minutes before we reached the perimeter.

"_Daryl, stop,_" I reached out and grabbed his arm. I had almost forgotten about the piano wire we had strung up. If it weren't for the sun catching it a bit, we would have walked right into it. The whole area was clear, which meant either no walkers had come through since I cleared it before leaving or someone else had happened upon this place.

"What?" I lifted a wire up for him to go under. "Piano wire. Sharp as hell. Cuts walkers to bits when they pass through it."

"You said this thing was set in the ground? You open the door and I'll get 'em. There aren't many of 'em, right? Let them out one at a time if you can, just shut the door between."

You couldn't hear them until you were almost right above the door, but it was there. A dull thudding, almost listless. They must be nearly starved, even closer to death than they already were.

"You ready?" Daryl nodded and I pulled up on the heavy metal door. The first was slow to get out. I couldn't even tell which of my friends the thing used to be. It looked entirely emaciated, and only it's clothing marked it as female. It didn't even have hair anymore. Daryl was quick, stabbing it straight in the forehead.

Every time I lifted the door, I tried to decide who was who, but I couldn't remember who had been wearing what. Finally the last one fell. There was no thumping on the door, so I lifted it again so Daryl could go through.

"We won't be able to see if I shut the door, so I'm going to leave it open." I whispered to Daryl. I don't know why I whispered. There was no one living to hear us.

"Fill up your bag. There's a ton of shit here. I'm going to run these back to Glenn and we're gonna keep filling up our bags until the car can't hold no more." We got food and baby formula from the pantry first, stuffing as many cans and bottles of water and crackers as we could in one bag and all of the baby formula and food in the other.

While Daryl was gone I walked through the place I once thought of as home. The pantry and kitchen area was definitely the biggest room. It's where I used to sleep. There was only one bedroom, and it wasn't very big. Neither was the bathroom, which was really more of a glorified pot-a-potty than anything. I couldn't hear Jordan, but I was certain his now-walker reincarnation was in the bedroom, in the crib he died in.

I knew what I should have done to make it right. I forced myself, somehow, to open the door. The light was dim, but I could vaguely see some movement. I was right. He was still in the crib. I don't know if he was able to see me; maybe he smelt me. Something alerted him that there was potential food in the room.

He started throwing his tiny body against the rails of his crib, but it was so pitifully weak. When it first happened, when he first turned, the cries were awful: shrill, loud, powerful. Now he was barely managing a hiss and a raspy snarl every now and then. All I could think of was Jordan before, when he was alive, and sweet little Judith. And I lost it. I started to cry and my knees felt weak, so I held on tight to the door. It was like flood gates had opened.

I could remember Jordan's triumphant first steps in this room. The way he would laugh when you played peek-a-boo with him. I remembered how surprised he looked when we gave him some cotton candy we found and it disappeared in his mouth. Now here he was trying his best to eat me because that's all these mindless things everyone turns into are programmed to do.

I was still crying, though not as hard, when Daryl came back.

"Oh, dammit, Livy." He touched my shoulder as he went by me into the bedroom. Daryl was quiet, and he was quick. Jordan's efforts ended abruptly. We worked very quietly then, me packing as much as I could into bags and folded bedsheets while Daryl carried them back to the car. Our last bags packed, we climbed out of the bunker and Daryl shut the door as quietly as possible.

We had bags on our backs and in our hands, but I shifted mine over so I could reach out give Daryl's hand a squeeze.

"Thank you for that," I said and he looked away.

"It ain't nothing." And we didn't speak again until we got back to the car.

"You had a whole damn gold mine in there!" Glenn seemed pretty excited. We had grabbed food, medicine, weapons, clothes, blankets, dishes, baby toys for Judith and Lego's for Carl, you name it. If it was in the bunker and movable, we took it.

"I wish we had been able to get the crib for Judith." I shivered when I thought about how it must be covered in Jordan's thick, black undead blood.

"Why couldn't you? There's still some room in the car." Daryl shook his head from the passenger seat.

"Was bolted to the floor, man. There was no gettin' it." That was a lie and I was thankful for it. I had only told Daryl the whole truth about Jordan. Either way, we had a lot of stuff. It may not have been everything we needed, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.

The sun was low in the sky but not quite setting when we got back through the prison gates. We could hear Beth singing as soon as we walked through the front doors.

_Oh you got to hold on, hold on, you got to hold on. Take my hand, I'm standing right here. You got to hold on._

Glenn went ahead of us to get Maggie and Carl to help us unload. I smiled at Daryl.

"She sings beautifully." Daryl nodded his head.

"She's a song bird, alright. Let's get to work."

We brought the supplies to the front room, what was probably at one point in time a foyer where families and friends gathered to go through metal detectors to see inmates. Each time we came in, we heard a different snippet of Beth's song.

_Everybody is looking for someone to blame, but you share my bed, you share my name._

"Hey, Carl, you like Lego's? We got you some. And playing cards. I'll teach you how to play Speed and Texas Hold 'Em." I couldn't tell if Carl was excited or not, even though he smiled. I bet it was hard for him, being a kid in a world made for adults.

"I know some magic tricks with cards," he said, grabbing some bags.

_Well, you built it up, you wreck it down. You burn your mansion to the ground when there's nothing left to keep you here, when you're falling behind in this big blue world._

"Oh, I like this," Maggie said, pulling a small hand gun out of the bag it was poking out of. "This would be good for Beth, she has such tiny hands and the kick off guns still sends her back a bit."

"More vests, too, like the one Livy was wearing. I think there's one that would fit Carl. He swims in that riot gear." Glenn told her, passing a bag full of things for Judith to me. I took them farther inside so that Rick would have them.

Beth was still singing while Michonne, Rick, Hershel, Carol, and even Merle in the doorway listened to her. Her voice was light and sweet and I didn't want to interrupt and make the song end, so I waited for her to finish.

"I come bearing gifts. Formula and diapers mostly, but we have clothes for Judith, too, up front."

Rick motioned with his head that I should put them in the cell he shared with his kids.

"We'll inventory the rest of the stuff in the morning when we have the light." Carol brought food out and we all ate there in candle light, Carl showing us the magic tricks he knew and Maggie and Beth singing occasionally.

It was nice. It felt like a family. It felt safe and warm and like home. Little did any of us know that the morning light was going to bring huge changes to our cozy nest of a prison.


	7. Chapter Six

_**Chapter Six**_

* * *

I slept through the night for the first time in a long time after Daryl killed Jordan. I guess it's because I knew it was truly over, that I would never hear that dead shadow of Jordan making those awful noises again. I didn't even wake up to go with Daryl to the guard tower during his shift. That's how good of a night's sleep I got.

I woke up earlier than the rest that and grabbed one of the wild apples Glenn had foraged while Daryl and I collected supplies from the bunker. The sun wasn't quite up yet, but Glenn was up in the guard tower, his gun poised and ready. He didn't even hear me slip out of the prison, and once I was outside I realized why. The hisses, the choked snarls, the dark sounds of walkers were louder.

In the two and a half weeks I had been there, never had I seen them flock to the southeast corner of the gate like that. They usually crowded around either the front or the back exits, which were the ones we most often used. I walked over to the guard tower and yelled up at Glenn.

"Hey! Is that okay? Will their weight hold or do you want me to try to thin them out a bit?" In response, he jerked his head towards the sharpened sticks and pipes we used against them. There were thicker logs that Michonne and Carl had been working on to set as 'walker traps'. They said they had seen a survivor do it on one of their runs.

"It would help a lot! I don't know what they think is over there." The only reason they would flock to a certain part of the gate would be if something living had caught their attention by passing through. At that point, I was thinking an ill-fated rabbit or raccoon. Not people.

I used the sharper end of the metal rod to pierce what was left of their brain and the blunt end to push them away from the fence to keep them from piling up. I had been working for maybe ten minutes, ignoring both Hershel's warnings not to push myself and the pain in my side, when I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder, making me jump and miss a shorter walker's head in favor of a taller one's chest.

"Have you seen Merle?" Daryl asks, but he isn't looking at me. His blue eyes are scanning the mass of walker's faces. I realized he was checking for his brother among the undead.

"No, I came right out here after getting up..." But he was gone by the time I got the first word out, tearing for the prison and calling for Rick. Glenn scrambled down from the tower, following Daryl's lead. I was torn between finishing the walkers and following to see what is going on. There definitely weren't as many now as there had been before, so I walked back to the prison.

"What do you mean Merle is gone?" Rick was asking, rubbing his eye and shushing Daryl, who was shouting. Judith was still asleep in her makeshift box bed with 'Lil Asskicker" written on the side.

"Where is Michonne?" Carol asked, her question suddenly silencing Daryl's voice and jolting Rick awake. Would Merle hurt Michonne? He seemed pretty rough around the edges but at the same time he seemed to care for Daryl. Would he do something to jeopardize his brother's safety here?

"You don't think..." Rick started, but Daryl cut him off with a loud "Son of a bitch!" that got Judith to screaming. Rick nodded at Beth to go to the baby and went after Daryl, who had grabbed his crossbow from the cell we shared and was now sprinting towards the front door.

"What's going on?" I ask Hershel, who is closest to me and the only one besides Beth not following Rick. Hershel pats the bunk he is sitting on, so I take a seat beside him.

"I didn't think Rick had told you. He's still unsure if we should let you stay, especially considering we kicked a group of people out of here shortly before you stumbled upon us."

I hadn't known that. I was friendly with everyone in the group, sure, but I also knew I wasn't yet one of them. I wasn't really surprised or upset that I had been kept in the dark about some things.

"When Rick went to meet with the Governor, he told Rick that he would leave us alone if we gave him Michonne. You see, when Michonne was in Woodbury, she had a fight with the Governor that left him with a bruised ego and missing an eye. He told Rick that they would be even if we handed over Michonne."

I didn't think that Rick was that type of man. He was hard and he did what he needed to do to protect Carl and Judith, but I just didn't see him as someone who would willingly send another human being to the slaughter.

"Merle was at Woodbury with the Governor for some time before rejoining our group. Rick asked Merle what would happen if he turned Michonne over to the Governor and Merle told him that the Governor wouldn't kill Michonne, not right away. He said he would keep her to torture. I don't think Rick ever really considered giving the Governor Michonne, but that sealed the deal for him. Merle told him it would be a mistake. He said if we didn't do this, the Governor would come for us full force. It seems now Merle has taken things into his own hands."

I looked down at our feet, my two and Hershel's one. What he had just told me definitely explained the walkers flocking to the gate. If Merle had been careful, had snuck Michonne out during the night when the shifts were being changed, he easily could be close to this Woodbury place by now for all I knew.

"Oh. Well then." I stood up and brushed off the dumb orange jumpsuit I was still wearing because we hadn't sorted out the supplies yet. "I'm going to go see how I can help."

I wasn't quite sure what to think. I didn't know much about the Governor still, but I did know he had a whole town backing him. He seemed to me to be some kind os sociopath, the kind of people we learned about in m psychology classes. That was enough to scare me. It made me think of Jim Jones. If he had been charismatic and persuasive enough to convince a town of people to drink cyanide Kool-Aid in our previous world, what could the Governor convince a town full of desperate, scared people to do?

I walked out the doors just in time to see Daryl speeding off on his motorcycle. Rick looked worried and a little bit sad. I don't think Daryl would let anyone in the world accompany him on something like this. To Rick, it probably looked like a suicide mission.

"Daryl's going to go looking for them," Rick said, turning away from the fence to face use. "We need to get to work. I don't know when Merle left with her. I don't know how we let that slip by us. Even if Merle gets to the Governor before Daryl gets to them, we can't trust what the Governor will do. Today, refortification is our focus. Carl, you and Maggie and Glenn will be working on walker traps and strengthening the fence. I'll switch out with each of you about every hour so we'll always have someone in the tower. Carol and Livy, you guys take stock of the weapons. Make sure everyone's bunk is stocked."

I knew he meant with guns, knives, riot gear, vests, anything that would come in handy in an ambush.

"I want to say I can't believe that Merle has done this, but I can't. He's always been very self-centered, not considering the needs or wants of the other group members." This was the first time I had seen Carol angry.

"Hershel said he was with this Governor guy for awhile?" I asked as she slammed bullet proof vests one on top of the other.

"Yes. He got separated from our group and fell in with Woodbury." I nodded and started looking through the bag with all the boxes of ammunition.

"And Andrea? She got separated too?"

"She did. She met Michonne somewhere along the way, and they both ended up at Woodbury."

I wasn't sure if I should say what I wanted to. That I didn't think that Merle was doing this for the Governor, but was rather doing it for the group. For Daryl, at the very least, to keep his brother safe. Either way, he wasn't doing it for the Governor. Michonne had left Woodbury. Merle had left Woodbury. Andrea had not. So why was it that Michonne still was not fully trusted, Merle was an outsider, but Andrea had been welcomed with open arms? That logic didn't sit well with me.

I didn't tell Carol any of that, though, because I already felt like my stake in this group was tentative. Even if I didn't agree with them in all things, and even if there was a threat of an attack, I knew I had a much higher likelihood of surviving here than I would on my own. So I worked with Carol to sort and deliver supplies. I made sure Beth got the handgun Maggie had said she wanted her sister to have.

I couldn't stand to sit still while all these things were happening. Waiting to see if Daryl would return with Merle and Michonne. Waiting to possibly be attacked. So I went back to killing walkers through the fence, but I didn't last long with that because Hershel had been right. A searing pain ripped through my side with the healing ribs, so I abandoned that to sit in the gardens and weed them. Hershel noticed me holding my side and shook his head.

"Go in and rest. Find some clean clothes, lay down for a bit, go see Bethy and Judy. I don't care as long as you aren't out here hurting yourself."

I liked Beth. She kept track of things for us, made things a little more normal. I doubted that the days of the week matched up anymore, but Hershel had told me how one day shortly after arriving at the prison she declared it Sunday. He said she had been keeping track of the days since. She had created the 'shower schedule' to ensure we all bathed once a week. I had forgotten it was my day until Hershel had sent me inside.

My ribs weren't taped anymore, so I got to shower without a huge plastic bandage. Showering always felt normal, yet bizarre at the same time. It reminded me of _before _when this was a daily routine and it always made me almost forget that now it was a luxury.

Everything in this world was a luxury now, even the ugly orange jumpsuits. The clothes we gathered were a luxury now, but they would have been in regular life too. Whoever that bunker originally belonged to obviously came from money. I mean, the boots I pulled on after finding jeans that were more or less my size were Dolce and Gabbana.

They were thick riding boots made of good leather, and they came up to my knees. I felt certain they would be warm and waterproof, and stand up to a walker's bite.

_I hate that we have to think like this now_ I thought. _Will it be warm enough? Sturdy enough? Can it stop a walker? A knife? A bullet?_ As if it weren't bad enough we had to fear the dead, we had to fear our fellow living. I guess it was just proof that humanity would never be able to set aside differences and work together.

I looked through the bags until I found the nail polish I had stashed away while Daryl wasn't there. I knew he wouldn't like me grabbing something so irrelevant to survival, but it was for moral. That's important in survival, too, to have something to lift spirits. I thought Beth would like it, so I took it to the cell where she kept Judith.

"Hey," I said, knocking on the wall. Judith was asleep again, so I took it down to a whisper. "Want a manicure?"

Seeing the huge smile stretch across Beth's face when I showed her the little bottles of nail color let me know I had done the right thing.

* * *

We are all outside when Michonne comes back. We have done a lot of work. Barbed wire has been laid out to pop the tires of the Governor's vehicles, and we watch, dumbfounded at first, as Michonne picks her way around it. Then suddenly Rick and Carl were in motion, pulling the gates open for her and asking her questions.

_Where's Merle? Where's Daryl? Are you okay? Are they okay?_

She didn't know, Merle let her go and told her to come back to the prison. Merle said he was going to look for the Governor. He was looking for Merle, still. She was fine. She hoped so. Daryl had been when they encountered each other. He decided to push forward and find Merle.

All we could do was wait. Daryl came back that day, after the sun had set. He had blood on his hands and face and clothes, but none of it was his, he said. It belonged to Merle. His brother was dead. He was not the first to kill him. The Governor had made Merle one of the undead.

Daryl did not cry, though his eyes were red and swollen, evidence he was mourning. Rick clapped his hand on Daryl's shoulder. Beth and Carol gave him hugs he halfheartedly returned. Michonne hung her head. Sure, Merle was going to hand her over, but that didn't lessen her sorrow for Daryl.

That night, I woke not from nightmares, but from Daryl hitting his pillow and quietly, violently cussing. I didn't let him know I could hear him. I figured he wanted the privacy to mourn alone. When it was his turn for night watch, I waited a few minutes and followed him outside. There was something else I had grabbed from the bunker I had hidden from Daryl, not sure how he'd react: a half-full bottle of vodka. We had been using it to clean wounds when we didn't have anything else. I figured it would help this wound, too.

"What are you doing here?" Daryl asked. He didn't wipe the tears from his face. They made tracks of silver down his cheeks in the moonlight.

"I figured you could use a friend," I said, showing him the bottle. Daryl almost smiled and shook his head, but reached his hand out for the bottle.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" I shrugged.

"Close enough. There's no laws now, anyway." He passed me the bottle after taking a healthy swig for himself. After a few shots of vodka I felt brave enough to cover his hand with mine. He didn't shake it off.


	8. Chapter Seven

**_Chapter Seven_**

* * *

Things were different after Merle died. Preparations for this Governor were put on top priority. He had not gotten Michonne like he wanted. He had killed Merle. It was Rick's belief that very soon, he would be coming for us. The plan seemed simple:

Hershel, Beth, Carl, and Judith will be hidden, most likely in the forest. Rick gave all of them guns and Carol made sure Judith was dressed warmly and Beth had enough blankets and food for her.

Daryl had suggested using what he called the tombs.

"It would be really easy to get some walkers into there if we leave the yard open. Get some in the yard and into the tombs, make it look like we cleared outta here. If we can keep out of sight and get them to storm the prison lookin' for us, maybe we can get them down to the tombs and the walkers'll take some of them out."

It was decided that Daryl and I would be responsible for setting off smoke bombs and the prison's alarm to draw the walkers to the Governor's army. With this threat looming, Rick's qualms about whether to trust me and Michonne seemed to have vanished.

"Glenn and Maggie will ambush them out here after they get it inside," Rick decided. "Michonne, Carol, and myself will take out whoever we can after that."

Like I said, simple. And terrifying.

"When we do this, you hit the alarm. I'll throw the smoke grenades. Then we book our asses outta here, you got it?" Daryl asked on the morning of the day the Governor had promised to visit.

"Got it."

I hugged Beth, Hershel, and Carl before they headed for the forest and I gave Judith a kiss.

"You stay nice and quiet, baby girl," I told her.

We were quickly in our positions, and we waited. On the catwalk above the entrance to the tombs, I could just barely see Daryl shrouded in shadows. He met my gaze and gave me a thumbs up. I had just returned it when we heard the gunshots. It was almost time.

The adrenaline had begun to kick in and even though I felt like I was going to explode on the inside, my hand was incredibly still as I placed it over one of the buttons that set off the alarm. Weak sunlight suddenly cut through the prison; someone had opened the doors.

"Split up! Find these sorry bastards!" Someone yelled. I looked over to Daryl and he held up a finger to his lips and tipped his head towards the people on the ground floor. Lucky for us, they didn't even look at the catwalks. One of the men pulled open the doors behind which walkers lay in wait.

Daryl rained smoke bombs down on them one after another and I slammed my hand against the alarm button. It got foggy quickly and I was no longer able to see Daryl.

I ran blindly down the catwalk and the stairs, heading for the side entrance Daryl and I had agreed to use. I was almost there when I felt a sharp tug on my braid. It nearly pulled me down on the ground, and I could hear the grumbling moans of a walker.

Before I could even reach for my knife, I felt a spray of thick, cold blood and smelled the rot of the walker.

"Move!" Daryl said, shoving me forward. We were out the doors and outside the side gate, which we had left open, within minutes. Just after we were out, the front doors burst open again and the Governor's army came out coughing. Glenn and Maggie popped up from their bush hide outs just outside the gates and started firing. Daryl and I were too far away to get any shots in, but soon Rick, Michonne, and Carol joined in from the forest's edge.

A man with an eye patch went running for a truck and tore away from the prison, dozens of his followers doing the same. Most were running on foot.

"Was that…?" I whispered and Daryl nodded.

When all had left, Rick walked out of his hiding place and motioned for us to all come out.

"We need to end this," Rick said when we had all come together.

"I want to fight," Carl said. "I took out one of the soldiers in the forest."

"Now, wait a minute," Hershel said, shifting his weight on his crutches. Glenn moved to help him. "That boy wasn't much older than you were. He was scared." But Carl's eyes were on his father.

"No, you'll stay here and help keep your sister safe." Rick said sternly.

"Glenn and I will stay here, make sure the walkers are cleaned out from the prison and keep guard." Maggie stepped forward, and Rick nodded.

"I'll stay, too," I said. I didn't feel it was my place to go to Woodbury.

"Alright. I'll take Daryl and Michonne with me. Everyone else, clean up what you can and stay safe."

We got Beth, Judith, and Hershel situated up on one of the catwalks before Carl, Carol and I started cleaning out the cell block. Maggie and Glenn got to securing the gates again.

The dead was always a mixed bag. Some of them were very light due to advanced decay; I left those for Carl. Others were heavier, but still moveable. Newer ones, though, that obviously had not been dead for long took both me and Carol moving them to get them out.

"We'll get some water from the creek when they get back and mop all this up," Carol said, motioning to the mess on the floor. I will say this about the Governor's group, they cleared out the prison before running, making our job easier. We only had to stab a few of the army that had been taken down by the walkers.

Outside we arranged a pile and lit them up. Carl volunteered to sit outside and watch the fire to make sure it stayed contained.

It was crazy to think that the whole raid or whatever the Governor intended only took around a half hour or so. That was just my own personal judgment; it was hard to tell time anymore. Time didn't matter much and it was really only counted in sunrises and sunsets. We used to count time in all sorts of ways. Hours, day, weeks, months. Holidays, anniversaries, birthdays. None of it mattered anymore.

But the Governor. He was formidable. He obviously had a following that gave him manpower, and they were well-equipped. Yet somehow this little group of survivors I'd found myself a part of had been able to defend themselves against him extraordinarily well. I couldn't help but wonder why, exactly, he wanted to kill my new friends.

I thought about asking Carol, but I thought better of it and grabbed one of the sponge mops she had brought out from a supply closet. They were already stained red. Obviously they were used for sopping up the ever-present gore. We got the worst of it cleaned up, but until we could get some water the cement would be stained with dull blood.

"I'm worried about Carl, Daddy," I just barely heard Beth whisper to Hershel. I didn't want to look up and make it obvious that I was eavesdropping, but I was curious. I could tell that Rick was not always one hundred percent, and I had figured it probably had something to do with the fact that Judith didn't have a mother.

But Carl was usually so quiet, if a little rough, that I never even thought about how it must be effecting him. He wasn't so outward with his loss as Rick was.

"I know, Bethy. I'm going to tell Rick that the boy agreed to put his weapon down before Carl shot him." It made sense. Neither of the Grimes boys were willing to lose someone else if they could prevent it. But that didn't make it okay. Carl was young, too young to be a killer, even in this world.

When we had everything more or less clean, Carol and I locked the door to the tombs in case there were some straggler walkers. Neither of us thought we should do a sweep with Rick, Michonne, and Daryl gone.

"We should start something for dinner," Beth suggested, making her way down the stairs. "It's been a long day, and maybe when they come back they'll have Andrea with them. And we can celebrate."

Beth was so sweet. Carol put her arm around her shoulders. "You know what, Beth? I think that sounds perfect. Here, give me Judith and help your dad down these stairs and we'll get started on something. Livy, could you go check on Carl?"

"Yeah, sure." I didn't feel like I was in any way qualified to talk to Carl right now, but I guessed Carol hadn't heard what I had.

Carl was throwing blades of grass he was plucking from the ground into the fire when I got out there. The smell was something you could never get used to. It was sour and musty, but somehow just a little sweet at the same time as if death was trying to say _'Hey, I'm really not all bad'._

"Is it going okay out here?" My question was met with a shrug. "Well, um, let me know when it starts dying down and I'll come help you throw some dirt on it and stomp it out." That time Carl nodded.

I really wasn't sure what I was supposed to do now. I was making friends in this group, but I still felt like I should be working for my keep. I stuck my hands in my back pockets and walked over to the small plot of crops Hershel and I had been tending. But everything was still too green to be picked or used.

I walked over to the good guard tower, the one the Governor's men hadn't blown up, and looked up at Glenn and Maggie. They were standing on opposite sides of the tower, trying to get a good survey of the entire yard.

"Hey," I called up. "Do y'all need any help?" They had already sealed and locked all the gates and weak points in the fence.

"Actually, could you do a perimeter sweep?" Glenn called back down. "All that noise really drew them in, and they're getting a little heavy on the west wall." I smiled at Glenn, feeling useful again. I picked up one of the rusty iron rods along the fence and went to work. It was so repetitive it was almost mind-numbing. Aim through chain link, stab through head, push weight of the walker away from the fence. But it was something.

I was really working up a sweat when I heard the grumble of a motor and looked up. It was much louder than the car Michonne and Rick had left in and it made my heartbeat pound in my chest. _This is it,_ I thought. _They've come back and we're not ready_. Carl and Carol had come running, guns ready. I was pulling mine, too, when I looked up to see Rick leaning out of the driver's side of a bus and blew out a relieved breath. He motioned for someone to open the gates.

Rick drove in one bus, and Michonne another and as always Daryl rode in on his motorcycle. I was expecting supplies but what came tumbling out of the bus was people. Woodbury people, I assumed.

"These people will be joining us." Rick announced, ushering the crowd into the prison. "The Governor turned on his men, shot them all down and abandoned Woodbury. We have the space and now we'll have the resources," he nodded towards Michonne's bus, which Daryl was helping unload.

Carl's change in mood was instantaneous. He looked both disgusted and enraged and he took one look at his father before storming off. Rick shook his head and looked sadly after Carl, but he didn't stop helping our new residences.

I went over to help Michonne and Daryl unload supplies from the second bus. Most of it was food and medicine and bedding, things we would need immediately. I realized, suddenly, that with so many new people we would easily fill up the cell blocks Rick had set aside for living in.

But where would that put me, since I was sharing with Daryl only because I was not yet trusted? Would there even be room to have my own? I didn't want to bring it up, though.

"I haven't seen y'all's friend." I said to Daryl instead while we carried supplies into the lobby. We had just been storing them there until we had the time to sort them out.

"That sorry son of a bitch killed her. We brought 'er back though. We bury our own 'round here." I thought immediately of Beth.

They buried Andrea quietly, while everyone from Woodbury was getting situated. I didn't belong in either place, not at Andrea's funeral or with the Woodbury group, so I stayed in the lobby helping everyone locate pillows and blankets and such. I showed them how to hang a blanket or curtain on the bars of the cells for some extra privacy. I helped move beds out of and into cells for families and un-bunk the beds. I didn't even know we _could _separate them until a little boy sheepishly pointed out the pins holding the two frames together.

It was surprisingly tiring work, but that could have had more to do with the physically and emotionally exhausting day we'd all had. All I wanted to do was collapse into bed, but I wasn't sure any more where that was. Until this:

"Hey," Daryl poked his head out of his cell. He'd hung up a shower curtain printed with polka dots of all things across the bars. "You comin' or what?"


	9. Chapter Eight

**_Chapter Eight_**

* * *

"What happened to the blanket that you used to have hanging up?" I asked, motioning towards the curtain and its polka dots. Daryl was wiping down his crossbow before leaning it against the wall. He nodded up to his bunk, where it was folded at the foot.

"That blanket's actually mine. Had it before all this shit started. I didn't want it getting mixed up and lost with all the new ones."

I didn't have anything from before. There hadn't been time. For a few months afterward I carried meaningless stuff around, the key to my dorm and my student ID card. Everything else had to become temporary, because we were constantly losing things to accidents and robbery before finding the fallout shelter.

"These can be separated." I said, tapping my knuckles against the metal of the bed frame. "I learned that today."

"It would be easier to keep an eye on ya if they weren't stacked up like this." I was fairly sure I wasn't really considered a threat anymore, but Daryl's tiny smirk confirmed for me that he was teasing.

"I'll get to work on it tomorrow. Really, I ought to tell Hershel you been moving furniture around for people. Those ribs ain't never gonna heal if you don't knock it off."

I shrugged, even though Daryl was on the top bunk by now and wouldn't see. "They don't hurt anymore."

I was tired, though, and I guess Daryl was too because he was out like a light. I barely managed to pull my boots off before I hit my pillows.

In the morning it really sunk in that our entire world inside the prison would be shifting with the introduction of the Woodbury residents. Daryl was right, I had pushed myself a little too hard yesterday and my side was pretty sore when I woke up. That and the fact I had slept so hard made me forget about our new people until I stumbled out of the main group's cell block, D, and into C.

I meant to go outside to check the crops for Hershel, but the sight of so many people milling about and separating belongings surprised me. I had forgotten about them entirely.

"Excuse me," I said countless times, picking a path through all the mess. When I finally made it outside, I was confronted with another surprise.

I was yawning when Rick pushed my gun and knife into my hands.

"Here. You're going to Woodbury with Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn. They have livestock there that we didn't have time to gather yesterday."

"Oh," I said, and fastened both back onto my body in their holsters. "Okay, yeah." I gave Rick a smile.

_What didn't they have in Woodbury?_ I thought to myself. Maggie and Glenn were fueling up two flat-bedded trucks with trailers hitched to the back. They were able to bring some of the vehicles from Woodbury, but there just wasn't enough time to get everything before sunset.

"I hope you're ready for a long day," Maggie said when I walked up. "We've got at least two trips ahead of us today, and even then I'll bet we'll have to do it all over again tomorrow."

"Um, do any of us even know what to do with livestock?" I asked, and Glenn started laughing.

"I forgot you didn't know. Beth and Maggie grew up on a farm. We'll be fine with my cowgirl leading us." Maggie mimed tipping a cowboy hat to us before Daryl rolled up beside us on his motorcycle. There was a bandana wrapped around his face.

"Y'all ready?" he asked, pulling the bandana down away from his mouth.

"Let's get it done." Maggie hopped into the cab of one of the trucks and Glenn waved to Carl and Carol to give the signal to distract the walkers before getting in the other. Daryl motioned with his head to the back of the motorcycle. He had scooted up a little so we could share the seat.

I bit my lip and swung my leg over before shyly putting my hands on his hips.

"Gotta hold on if you don't want to fall off," he said before giving the bike some power. When we started moving, I did start to slid a bit and my hands gripped onto Daryl's vest before I could help it. I had never ridden a motorcycle before and it was honestly kind of scary.

I knew the bike was too fast for walkers, but being exposed like that while we rode first through the woods and then on an actual street was truly frightening. I could hear them as they tried in vain to catch up to the bike. We were leading the little caravan. When we came to a walker in the road, Daryl swerved around it and moments later I heard it crunch under the tires of Glenn's truck.

The sound made me grit my teeth.

When we got to Woodbury, the gate was sealed shut. I guessed that when they cleared out yesterday they made sure to lock up so that the walkers wouldn't get in to the animals. Daryl shut the bike off before hopping off and heading to the fence.

"Cover me. It only opens from the inside." The only walkers around were already dead on the ground, but I kept a look out while Daryl climbed over the fence.

Once inside, Maggie made a beeline for a big, red brick house.

"We should get the chickens and roosters first," she was saying. "They really can't survive without human help since they'll be cooped up. Let's put the chickens in my truck and the pigs in Glenn's. Then we'll come back for the horses and cows while Livy and Daryl stay behind to scope out what else we'll need to get."

So we were to be scouts. I wondered why we took Daryl's bike when we wouldn't be able to transport anything on it.

Getting the chickens was… difficult, to say the least. First we just tried to move a whole coop, chickens and all, but it _really _freaked them out. So we let them out into the little fenced in space they had and took the coops to the truck, and caught and carried the chickens to the coops. We did this for four different coops.

The pigs were easier. They didn't have to be carried, and they were happy to be led through town with our hands full of food for them. They walked onto the trailer attached to Glenn's truck easily.

Once the animals were situated in the trailers, we loaded up the beds of the trucks with things on a list Rick had sent with Glenn. Cans of food, cooking utensils, weapons, firewood, medical supplies. Necessary things.

"Look for anything not on this list we might need. Baby stuff for Judith, toys for all the kids we have now, I dunno. Just stuff that would make life more comfortable, even if we don't really _need_ it."

Creature comforts. Glenn wanted us to find things that would make life seem normal.

We waved Glenn and Maggie off before getting to our search.

"Even though that lady said the Governor high-tailed it away from these parts, it'd still be best if we stayed together." Daryl said before walking towards a random, light blue house.

"We should probably bring stuff to take out to the gate and make a pile so it's easy to load up when they get back," I suggested and Daryl nodded.

We started with everything vital we could find. Habit, I guess. We found some more food and medicine and things we had missed the first time around. Then we went to stripping sheets and blankets off beds. We would need them come winter.

We took batteries and gadgets that ran off of them. Books for adults and kids, including coloring books and crayons. We found baby toys and older kids' toys. Closets were raided of anything left from the flee last night.

When I started taking pictures in frames and kids' drawings, Daryl looked at me like I was crazy.

"What?" I asked. "They're nice to have."

There was one house we avoided entirely. Daryl said it was the Governor's.

"I don't give a rat's ass if there is stuff in there we could use, I ain't touching anything that sorry excuse of a man has used."

Daryl finally said he thought we'd gotten enough for one day's work, so we walked over to check out how many horses and cows we'd have to move.

I was petting one of the calves, a sweet little brown thing, when a bee landed on my hand. I stifled a scream and swatted it away and stepping back from it. I watched it until and moved from it until it finally flew away. I could hear Daryl laughing quietly.

"You ain't scared of walkers but you're scared of bees?"

"I'm allergic to bees. Do you know how badly it would suck to have made it this far with the dead walking around to be done in by a bee?" I pushed some of my hair of my face. It had started to fall out of its braid.

We found some food and sat on top of the fence, eating bags of stale chips and drinking bottles of warm water. Neither of us made any attempt to talk until we saw Maggie and Glenn driving up.

"I got it this time," I said, jumping off the fence.

It was much easier to get the horses and cows loaded up. They were just happy to see people and didn't mind being led to the trucks on ropes. We shut the gates tightly before leaving, because there was still things we could come back for.

I rode on the back of Daryl's bike back to the prison, but it was much less scary this time. It was almost comfortable, and I looked around so I could remember how to get back here if I needed to.

Back at the prison, a lot had been changed. Rick was carrying Judith, pointing and directing where to put things. Carl was playing basketball with some kids his around his age. There was a new cross on the south side of the prison, Andrea's.

Dinner was different. Carol had cooked for our group, as she always did, but a few of the Woodbury people had come together to cook for theirs. With this many people, it made more since to set up some kind of food allowance, but of course we didn't have time for that yet.

After we had eaten and everyone was separating to different blocks to go to bed, Rick called a meeting in our cell block, but only after Carl and Judith had been put to bed.

"I know we have a lot of responsibilities now with all the new people. I still feel like I did the right thing, bringing them here. But I don't think me continuing to lead would be the right thing anymore. Not for right now. I don't care who wants to take over, but it can't be me. I think we all know I'm not fit for that right now." He looked sad and ashamed, and it made me sad to look at him.

Hershel clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

He and Carol turned to Daryl, and slowly we all did. It made sense; Daryl was Rick's right hand man, it seemed.

"Oh, fuck no." Daryl said immediately. "I'm no leader. We'll make a council. I'll be on it, but I ain't headin' it. Me, Hershel, and Glenn and whoever they want from Woodbury. We'll lead by council until Rick is better."

And so we went from our faithful leader to our faithful leader_s._


	10. Chapter Nine

_**Chapter Nine**_

* * *

It was a good thing that we went to Woodbury when we did. We went back to the town barely two days after the first trip, and when we arrived there was nothing left but some embers that flashed when walkers aimlessly moved through them.

Daryl turned the bike around so fast that I slammed into him and almost lost my balance. We all booked it out of there. Woodbury belonged to the walkers now. It made me shiver to think how closely we had missed the Governor arriving to torch the town.

We got things figured out at the prison. Everyone, our whole big group, ate dinner together in the mess hall. Food allowances were made to each cell/family and people took care of their own breakfast and lunch. A job schedule had been made by the council—Daryl, Glenn, Hershel, and a few of the Woodbury people—and rotated around.

Hershel's crop plot had grown considerably and now included the farm animals. Rick was helping us toil dirt and tend to the fields.

Michonne technically lived with us, sharing a cell with Carol officially, though she really preferred to spend time outside of the gates, searching for the Governor. I had heard from Daryl what he did to Andrea one night. I was still sneaking out with him when he had night watches.

"He didn't even make it fair for her," Daryl said, the disgust obvious in his voice. "He strapped her into a chair and gutted one of his own, leavin' the poor bastard with his innards fallin' on the floor to turn and do Andrea in for him. She was outta the restraints by the time we got there, but it was too late. The guy had turned and taken a chunk outta her neck. There was nothin' we could do."

Daryl shook his head. "Andrea's own sister went out in the same way, a walker bitin' out her neck."

I leaned my head against Daryl's shoulder. I had come to understand that Daryl was not opposed to affection; he just wasn't one to initiate it. I had seen, many times, Rick or Glenn rest a hand on his shoulder and Carol playfully swat him when he would take a bite of food from whatever she was cooking as he walked by. I'd even seen Beth hug him when he would take longer than usual hunting and she'd about convinced herself he was never coming back.

"Sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier in New Mexico. To survive, I mean." I said, to get his mind off of it.

Daryl wasn't just hunting animals. He was helping Michonne hunt the Governor. He had been able to track them to an extent, but the trail had turned cold.

"I mean, it's flat there. It would be easier to see them coming, I'd imagine. But it's hot and dry and windy, so they'd probably just get mummified instead of rotting."

"Bet the chupacabra took a few of 'em out." I looked up in time to see his smirk in the moonlight.

"Or the Mexican drug cartel."

We talked and we joked, but we didn't talk about certain things. Neither of us ever brought up Merle, and Daryl didn't ask me about the family I'd lost in New Mexico. I preferred to assume my parents and siblings were dead. It was easier that way, no hope to lose.

"Some of 'em are getting pretty gross." The moon was full enough that it actually gave us a lot of light, enough that Daryl was able to point out a walker coming up. One of its arms was nearly disconnected, probably only held on by some strands of muscle and tendon and skin.

"Like that one, he's fallin' apart. But other ones look pretty healthy if you ignore the fact that they're dead."

I knew what he meant. The older walkers, the ones who looked emaciated and like they hadn't eaten in a long time, they were decomposing. Newer ones _did_ look healthy, somehow.

"I used to try to guess what their jobs were based on how they were dressed when this all started. It made it less scary, somehow."

"They're not people anymore. They're not even like animals, they're below them."

"Yeah, easy for you to say, Mr. Professional Hunter."

Daryl chuckled and we were quiet for a while after that. Eventually I felt Daryl's arm wrap around my waist and his hand rest against my hip. It surprised me and honestly it made my heart pick up the pace so that it made the blood race in my veins. But neither of us made any move to acknowledge the change. We just sat in the darkness, my head on his shoulder and his arm around my waist.

Besides tending fields and animals with Rick and Hershel, my favorite job was clearing the fence. After the Governor's attack, it was pretty hard to keep the walkers out because the Governor's vehicles had done a number on the fences. They had only bust through the gates, but the force had created a lot of weak spots.

We lost seven people that way, and our graveyard grew from three to ten wooden crosses.

Once the fences were fixed, they were patrolled and cleared daily. More people made more noise and attracted more walkers. The council had decided it best not to take any chances with the fences. We had been lucky to only lose seven.

When I was on fence clearing duty, along the west wall of the fence, so was Daryl. It's not like we had time to talk or anything while we worked, but it was nice to be working with him with the sun overhead.

I was walking along the outer fence line, trying to decide where to start, when I felt a hand on my shoulder to stop me. Daryl picked up my hair where it was spilling from my ponytail over my shoulders and tucked it into the collar of my shirt.

Sometimes, the walkers were able to get their hands through the chain links and grab at your hair and clothes. I was sure Daryl was remembering the Governor's raid, when the walker had grabbed my hair and nearly pulled me down.

"Thanks," I said, blushing. Daryl nodded and moved along the fence, driving an iron rod through the eye socket of a walker.

A lot had changed in our world. Before, I never would have imagined looking into the decayed faces of former _people_ and killing them without a second thought would be a part of my daily routine. But there were things that went on the same, oblivious to the dead. The sun still shone and the wind still blew. And flies still buzzed.

I hated those stupid flies. With the temperature getting hotter every day it seemed, the flies were flocking to the dead. They were always around, and we were always having to swat them away. Earlier that week Carl had accidentally swallowed one of them while playing soccer with some of the other boys.

Outside the fence, a deer wandered from the tree line into the open field of walkers and promptly turned around to sprint off.

"I wonder how the animals are doing in all of this," I said, loud enough I knew Daryl could hear me over the moans and groans of the walkers.

"I mean, the walkers eat them, too. But what happens if the walkers eat _all _of a species of animal? These stupid things aren't just killing us, they're liable to mess up the whole food chain."

"Is this the kind of fancy-pants thinkin' they taught you to do in that college of yours?"

I laughed and watched him wait for the walkers to line up just right before pushing the rod through three at once. He had to put his boot against the fence for leverage to pull the rod back out.

"Nice one, Mr. Dixon!" One of the boys around Carl's age named Patrick worshipped the ground Daryl walked on. It was really cute actually. Daryl raised his hand to Patrick in a halfhearted wave.

"If you're not careful, you'll get your own fan club going." I teased Daryl while we walked back to the gates.

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked up when I heard the thunder of hooves. Michonne was back, riding her horse at a near gallop in a wide perimeter around the gates to give us time to open them for her. I wondered sometimes if the animals saw the walkers as human or more like an animal danger, something that would hunt them down.

It wasn't until Michonne was safely inside that we realized she wasn't alone. In the saddle just behind her was a small Mexican woman.

"She was asking for supplies. She doesn't speak much English, but she seems really desperate. I thought maybe Livy could talk to her." Michonne said in answer to Daryl's questioning gaze. She turned and offered her hand to the woman to help her down.

"Why me?" I asked. I could speak a little Spanish, and I understood more than I was able to speak, but I hadn't told anyone that.

"Well, you're from New Mexico, so…" Michonne shrugged.

"I can try." I hadn't talked to anyone in Spanish since I left New Mexico for college.

"_Hola," _I said to the woman once we had her inside the gates. "_Me llamo Olivia." _

She smiled brightly at me. I think she was excited that someone was speaking her language.

_"Me llamo Yadira." _From there, the words just tumbled out of her mouth in one big breath. I had to really work to keep pace and understand.

"Wait, wait. _Enfermo? _Your people are _enfermo?_" I knew I was butchering the poor woman's language, but I was so rusty. I couldn't even think of all the words I'd have to conjugate to ask fully in Spanish.

_"Si, si."_ She nodded emphatically.

"What is she saying?" Rick's voice behind me made me jump a bit, and I turned to see him holding Judith.

"She says the people in her group are sick." I told Rick before turning back to the Yadira. _"Tu necesitas medicinas?" _I asked. _Do you need medicine? _

_"Por favor!" _

I turned back to Rick. "Can we spare some medicine?"

Rick looked uncertain. He passed Judith from one arm to the other as he stood considering.

_"La bebe is muy bonita," _she said, her hand out stretched. Rick pulled Judith farther into him, away from the woman.

"Oh, no, Rick. She says Judith is beautiful. She doesn't mean her any harm, it's a cultural thing. In Mexican culture, they're a lot touchier."

_"Gracias,"_ Rick said, but he also took a step back. "I'm going to go talk to Hershel and Dr. S, see what supplies we have. Try to figure out what her people are sick with."

"Um, did _el muerto_," I said, pointing to the walkers so she'd understand, "_mordio tu gente?" _I was trying to ask if any of them had been bitten, but I could tell by the confused look on her face she was unsure what I was asking. Eventually she shook her head and started talking again.

From what I understood, it was just bad cases of the cold or maybe even turning into the flu. But one person, she told me, an old man had started bleeding from his nose and eyes and ears.

When Rick came back with some Sudafed and Tylenol, the woman seemed happy enough with what we had to offer and thanked Rick profusely. Michonne took her back to where she found her before coming home for dinner and to stay a few days before she got back to hunting the governor.

"Hershel," I said, our group sitting outside while the sunset and we ate a dinner of beans and opossum. "Can a fever get so high that you start bleeding?"

"Where's this coming from, Livy?" My question had drawn attention. Everyone was looking at me curiously. Glenn had his spoon just outside his mouth; he had stopped when I asked my question and it was dangling in the air outside of his open mouth. Carl was eating dinner with one of his friends he had made, so I figured then would be a good time to ask.

"Yadira, the Mexican woman, she was telling me that her people had the cold or the flu, she wasn't sure. But she also said an old man started bleeding from his nose, eyes, and ears out of nowhere."

"It would be news to me," said Hershel. "Sounds like a brain aneurism."

"Poor bastard," I heard Daryl mumble into his bowl.


	11. Chapter Ten

_**A/N:**_ Hey, guys! One more time so it's in all of my stories! Little PSA: You are more than welcome to create fan art for this fic, provided you credit Livy to me and please PM a link of your work! :)

* * *

_**Chapter Ten**_

* * *

Surprisingly, even with all the Woodbury children, Judith was still the only baby at the prison. That made it easier for us on runs and stuff, only having to find formula or diapers for one baby. Usually Michonne made those runs herself on her horse; she didn't much like being inside the fence anyway.

But one day the formula fell from Michonne's bag and became an island among the walkers. We had been having more of them lately, and Tyrese, one of the Woodbury residences, had found some animals towards the back of one of the fences. Someone had been feeding walkers.

"One of the kids, I'd bet," he had said, showing the bones to Daryl. "Some of them don't really understand that the walkers are bad." What he meant was some of the Woodbury kids. Carl knew damn well what the walkers were, but those kids that hadn't been exposed to them didn't entirely understand.

I knew that Carol was secretly teaching the kids how to kill walkers while giving them other lessons in the library of the prison. Rick didn't like it, he didn't want it to happen. I had walked in once while Carol was showing the kids how to hold a knife to put your weight behind it.

"Don't tell Rick," she had said, her clear eyes hard and serious. I had squeezed her arm and nodded.

"I won't. I know it's important."

Either way, Tyrese was probably right about whoever was feeding them. Whoever was doing it had attracted more of them, so many that runs were becoming hard if not dangerous.

"We have to get it. Judith is almost out," Rick was telling Michonne. The horse's hoof beats had attracted a lot of walkers to the front. Taking a horse or a car to get it would be more trouble than it was worth.

"And how are we supposed to do that right now? We're going to have to wait." Michonne told Rick. I was walking by with a load of laundry for Beth when I overheard them talking. I stopped and looked out the fences, eyeing the distance.

"I could make that on foot," I tell Rick. "If y'all can get enough away from the gates, I could do it. That's sprinting distance."

Michonne didn't seem to like the idea, but Rick was nodding.

"You're sure you can make it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, just make sure someone is watching from a tower. There's no way I'll be able to make it sprinting and cover myself at the same time. Someone will have to be shooting them down if they get too close if you want me out and back fast enough."

Rick gave me another nod and then walked over to Glenn's tower, calling up to him.

"Hey, Glenn. Think you can cover Livy without shootin' her?" I heard Glenn laugh and call Rick a dick before agreeing.

"Carl, Beth. Come here. I have a job for you two." Rick gave each of them a metal rod and instructions to go to opposite sides of the fences and try to draw walkers away from the front.

"Me and Michonne will open the outer gate. You run and don't worry about stopping, just get the formula and come back. Glenn's covering you from above, and we'll do the same on the ground."

"Yeah," I said, stretching my legs a little bit. "Got it."

As soon as they pulled the gates apart, I blew through, trying to hit the stride rhythm I used in competitions. The walkers weren't too thick anymore, but I was definitely catching their attention. I heard a bullet whizz by before one of them fell to my left.

"Shit," I said. I was almost on top of one that was missing its legs for some reason. It was still reaching out for me, its jaw searching for skin. I did the first think I could think of and cleared it like it was a hurdle.

I only stopped for a second, just long enough to pick up the formula, but that was nearly a second too long. I shoulder checked one away from me and ignored the pain it caused because it was a lot bigger than me. It fell to Glenn's bullet and I was off again.

Hurdle over the one on the ground again. Duck right to avoid one a little too close. Sprint hard, and I was in the gates again.

"Shit," I said again, heart pounding. I gave Rick the can of formula and raised my hands above my head, trying to catch my breath.

"That was a lot farther than it looked. I haven't ran like that since… before."

"We're definitely taking you on more runs," Glenn called down from the tower. "Man, we really could have used you in Atlanta!"

Carol gave me a cup of water once we were back in the prison yard. "Good job."

"It was nothing," I said. Well, it shouldn't have been. When I was in season and properly trained, that would have been absolutely nothing. You would think that in a world where running for your life was essential, I would be faster than I was before, not slower.

There was one day, as a sort of moral thing and an opportunity to really get to know the people of Woodbury, that Hershel suggested we have a celebration of sorts.

So we all made different foods and mixed under the summer sun. I could tell Daryl hated it. He hung around a fire with me, while I mixed and cooked tortillas for everyone who had never had them. Tortillas are really simple to make and didn't use much resources, so they were quickly becoming a staple in our diets.

"Why don't you use a spatula?" Daryl said, taking a bite of a cooled down one while I quickly flipped a tortilla in the pan and then shook the heat from my fingertips.

"Because _that _is not how you flip tortillas, Daryl Dixon. You gotta make them the authentic way."

"In the shape of Texas?" He asked, holding up what he hadn't yet eaten.

"Rolling them out is harder than it looks. Why don't you give it a try if you're going to stand there and talk crap?"

Daryl smirked and shook his head. "I think I'll pass there."

Beth was sitting in the grass, surrounded by little girls while she showed them how to clap her hands and pat their laps to make a beat and she sang to them. Her sweet voice filled the prison yard and drowned out the ugly sounds of walkers.

"Do you trust these people?" Daryl asked suddenly.

"Should we not?" I asked, lowering my voice. "The Governor abandoned them, we didn't, and their leader tried to kill us. Do you really think they'd turn on us?"

Daryl was always on edge lately. He thought he had a trail on the Governor, and I knew he was itching to be out there pursuing it, not inside the fences.

I thought Daryl was going to say something else. He opened his mouth, but Patrick and some of the other boys had come over and interrupted.

"Mr. Dixon, will you show us the crossbow trick again?" Daryl had let Patrick throw sticks and stray coins in the air earlier for Daryl to shoot down.

"Yeah, Mr. Dixon," I said, snickering. Daryl lightly pushed me on his way by and walked into an open spot away from Beth and the girls.

Life was really looking up at the prison. I felt more or less safe for the first time in a long time, and that was a damn good feeling when it had been missing for so long.

Under the cover of night when we were on watch, Daryl let me hold his hand with absolutely no complaints. Once, after a nightmare, he didn't even grumble when I woke him up and asked him to sit up and talk to me for a little bit.

I sat in his bed with him and he let me underneath his blanket and let me lay my head on his shoulder. But I knew he was tired even if he was humoring me, and it wasn't long before I felt his head fall on top of mine and his breaths turned to snores. So I untangled myself from Daryl and his blanket and laid him back down, pulling his blanket around him and kissing his cheek.

I knew Beth had started keeping track of how many days we were going without something bad happening. Things had been so rough right after the Governor's attack, but according to Beth's count we were about fifteen days into a good streak.

I hoped it would last forever, even though I knew it would be impossible.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**_Chapter Eleven_**

* * *

On a day Hershel had declared as Monday, so we could try to add some normalcy to our lives, we woke to screaming.

"What's happening?" I asked, but Daryl's bed was already empty, his crossbow gone. He was always fastest. I grabbed my gun and ducked through the curtain. Whoever it was, it sounded like a kid. A girl, maybe? Definitely too old to be Judy.

"Y'all good?" I asked Hershel and Beth, stopping for a moment at their cell. Beth had pressed Hershel's gun into his hand and had her own ready, following me into the next cell block over.

"You don't understand! You don't understand!" Out in the hallway, a father was trying to wrangle his daughter and calm her down. I thought her name was Lizzie, but I couldn't be too sure. I just knew she was a little off, spending most of her time with her sister and not really talking to any of the other kids.

"I'm sorry," her father was saying to Daryl. "She's been having night terrors. She wakes up in fits like this, won't listen to a word I have to say."

It really wasn't all that surprising that something like that would be happening. Our fences were see through, so even if the kids didn't get up close and personal with the walkers, they still saw them milling around. Plus I was pretty sure the kid's mom had been killed by a walker.

"That kid creeps me out," I whispered to Beth.

"She has a hard time with all this," Beth whispered back. She had holstered her gun and was rubbing her eyes. "I'm going back to bed."

I didn't blame her. It wasn't anywhere near time for the sun to rise. I watched Daryl and Glenn shoo everyone who had come to see what the trouble was back to bed, and then walked back to our cell block to check in on Carl and Judith. Rick was on night watch.

"Did she even wake up?" I asked Carl, who was peeking around the curtain.

"No," he said, shaking his head and looking back at his sister. "She sleeps through a lot."

"Good deal," I said around a huge yawn. We got up early, but not nearly this early. I figured it must have been one or two in the morning.

I was already cuddled back up in bed by the time I heard Daryl come back in. The only sound that ever signaled his presence was the slide of the bars. Otherwise Daryl moved silently, always on a hunter's feet.

Daryl showed me how those hunter's feet worked when he took me hunting with him.

"Heel to toe," he said, arms around me to show me how to hold and aim his crossbow. "Roll your weight across your foot. Don't take any flat footed steps."

I was surprised by how easily the arrow released from the crossbow and hit the squirrel Daryl had me aim for. I hadn't been strong enough to load the crossbow myself.

"Ain't half bad," Daryl said while I smiled wide about my handiwork.

"I'll take that as high praise." I said. "You did this before? Just for fun?"

Daryl was pulling his arrow from the squirrel's poor destroyed little head and wiping the blood off on a bandana.

"Nah, I did this to live just like now." Well, that explained why Daryl had no issue eating squirrels and opossums, or the occasional crow. Daryl tossed the squirrel in the rucksack he carried for game.

It's not like we didn't have the livestock, but Daryl insisted on continuing to hunt and nobody questioned it. You could tell that Daryl was the kind of person who needed open spaces and freedom, not fences and walls, even if the undead were walking around the place.

Daryl sat pulled a lone cigarette out of his pocket and lit up. But he didn't hold it the way that people typically hold cigarettes, between their pointer and middle finger. No, Daryl held it between his thumb and his pointer finger—like a joint, not a cigarette. And I couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" Daryl said, the smoke leaking out of his mouth.

"You hold it like a doobie, not a cigarette."

Daryl shrugged and offered it to me, so I took a drag. "Wish it was Mary Jane. Wish this whole damn world was just because of trippin'."

"Don't we all," I said, and failed so miserably at blowing a smoke ring that Daryl actually chuckled.

The woods were surprisingly empty of walkers, probably because so many of them were crowded around our front door. Even with regular clearing, there was still a _ton _of them milling around and adding all sorts of weight on top of the fence. It was even starting to bend in some places.

I slipped my hand into Daryl's and he didn't object to me threading my fingers through his. I thought by now that Daryl must at least like holding my hand if he never pulled it away.

I wasn't sure why Daryl brought me hunting with him. Other than letting me play with the crossbow for smaller game and covering him from the wayward walker, I wasn't much use to him. Even with the walking lessons, I was too loud most of the time and Daryl made me stay back when he tried for deer.

"What's the game like in New Mexico?" Daryl asked.

"Um, depends on where you were. But we have deer and coyotes most places. There's bears and wolves and elk higher up, in the mountains. Oh, and bob cats. You couldn't hunt the wolves or bears though, and you had to have licenses for everything except the coyotes. You could shoot those any season."

I shrugged and swung our hands a bit.

"And rabbits. And chupacabras," I said, to which Daryl smirked.

"Them damn chupacabras."

"But who knows now that the stupid walkers are the top of the food chain." I didn't like to think about the fact that there were walkers back home. That home was different. That home probably didn't exist anymore.

I looked down at our hands. The green polish Beth had chosen was nearly chipped off my nails from our manicures a few weeks ago. Even though I worked with Hershel in the dirt so often, my hands were actually cleaner and in better shape than Daryl's rough and callused hands.

"Let's get back to the prison," Daryl said, eyeing the sky. It looked heavy and bruised with all the clouds smudging out the sun.

"Yeah. I don't want to be out here if things get bad." Sometimes it was hard enough to get through the walkers on sunny days. I didn't want to know how difficult it would be with rain to deal with and thunder and lightning to attract them.

We had rode Daryl's bike out into the forest. I don't know if it was the added humidity from the coming rain storm, but the walkers were sluggish that day and only two had made the effort to follow us into the woods.

I sat behind Daryl on the motorcycle, my gun ready in case one of the walkers got too close. I hooked my fingers through Daryl's belt loops with my other hand so I'd still have some hold. I didn't quite live up to Merle bludgeoning walkers with his solid metal prosthetic, but I liked to think I did a fair job.

We were barely inside the prison gates when the rain started pouring down.

I heard Glenn telling Maggie, "I know it's gross, but the rain will help decompose them further. They're getting weaker. That's better for us."

I knew what Glenn meant. Hershel had pointed a walker out to me the other day that, when it was pressed up to the fence with the weight of other walkers behind it, had more or less slid through the chain links in chunks of flesh.

"Good," I had told him. "Maybe if we can wait it out long enough, they'll just rot away."

"There will always be new walkers, though, Livy." Hershel told me. "Don't forget, we're all infected."

We had gone eighteen days without an accident then.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**_Chapter Twelve_**

* * *

On the twentieth day without an accident, Daryl gave up on tracking the Governor.

"The trail has gone cold. I don't know if he caught on or if he just lit outta here, but I can't track it anymore," Daryl told Rick.

But he told me, "I think it's pretty obvious Rick won't be okay for a while."

Ever since we took in the Woodbury people and Rick stepped down, he had kept largely to himself and his kids. He didn't want to lead anymore, and he made that blatantly obvious. Rick would give Glenn and Daryl his opinions if they asked for them, but he refused to make any decisions. He helped me and Hershel with the garden and farm work more than anything.

From what I had pieced together by being, honestly, a nosy eavesdropper was that A). Judith may not actually be Rick's child because his dead wife cheated on him with his best friend post-apocalypse beginning and B). That not only did Rick's wife die, she died from an emergency C-section performed by Maggie and was then shot in the head to stop reanimation by Carl.

And I thought life in the fallout bunker had been hard.

Either way, Daryl gave up the trail whether he truly lost it or not. Glenn needed him inside the walls.

And on the twentieth night, we all talked about the first walker we had seen.

"A room full of them," Rick said. "Someone had barricaded the door. They wrote 'Don't open, dead inside' in blood." Apparently Rick had been in a coma and had missed the first days of the outbreak.

"I was doing a delivery, and when I knocked on the door nobody answered. But I could hear some weird sounds, like someone was choking or something, so I opened the door because I was worried. All I say was this _thing_ ripping into another person. I got pretty lucky, because it was too distracted to really notice I was there so I walked back out the door and got back in my car and called the police." Glenn had been a pizza delivery boy. I was learning a lot about my friends.

"I thought the guy was just hyped up on blow or somethin'. Never thought he might be dead. He came for me, but Merle threw him out a window and that seemed to do the trick." That was the first time Daryl had mentioned Merle since his death.

"Stumbling around outside. I didn't know what was wrong with her. She wasn't very big, so I was surprised when four policemen shot her down." Michonne didn't offer any more than that.

"I was at track practice," I told them. "One of my teammates just collapsed. She was a pole vaulter. I figured she had sun stroke or she was dehydrated or something. I was on the other side of the track, warming up for a relay. One of the coaches went over to check on her, and when he bent down to check for her pulse, she grabbed his head and started tearing into his face." I shivered, recalling all the screams and the sight of blood spraying everywhere.

"When cops showed up, he begged them to shoot him, too."

We didn't talk about people we lost very often, though. That was taboo.

Just because Daryl wasn't tracking anymore, that didn't mean we weren't still preparing for the Governor, or anyone dangerous, really. I had never seen so many guns… Little handguns like most of us carried in holsters, shotguns, automatic guns, machine guns, even military grade guns that we had managed to lift of some walkers in uniform.

And blades! Michonne was the only one with a katana, but we had plenty of machetes and a ton of kitchen knives, actually.

I was helping Glenn take inventory of our stash after a run and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry," I told Glenn, "But you have to admit it's kind of funny that we're arming ourselves with cheese knives."

"Hey, don't knock them. They have the cool little forked piece on the end."

We had food stores, too, of course. Beth was really good at drying and preserving foods like Daryl had shown us. Usually she was able to convince her boyfriend, Zach, to help her. And by 'help', I mean the prison kitchen was a good place to make out away from Hershel's eyes.

When Zach and his friends had been brought to the prison, Daryl just said that they had found some college kids and I know I shouldn't have but I hoped it would be someone I knew. But Zach and his friends were younger than me, and they had gone to a different college.

"I'm sorry," Daryl said that night after they had brought Zach's group to the prison. We were doing our perimeter sweep. Daryl made the shifts, and I was being scheduled with him more and more often.

"It's okay, Daryl." I knew he was talking about my not recognizing any of the new people. I gave Daryl a smile before driving a spear through the eye socket of one of the walkers leaning against the fence.

"I should have known better."

"I just meant, I know it's hard bein' an outsider in a group and all. I bet it woulda been nice to have someone here you knew before comin' here."

I turned my spear over so that the sharp end was in the ground, so I could lean against the dull side.

"I wasn't aware either of us were outsiders here," I said. "If nothing else, I thought at least I had you."

I had actually made Daryl Dixon flustered. "I didn't mean…Everyone here likes you real well. You're a part of this group as much as anyone else."

"Well, good," I said. I couldn't tell in the dark, but I liked to think he was blushing.

Rick didn't like the idea of kids being taught how to kill walkers—not even Carl had his gun anymore, Rick had taken that away—but he was all for the Woodbury adults being educated. It was a good idea, and somehow we had lucked into finding a ton of blanks in one of the abandoned houses we searched through on a run, so that is how Maggie's shooting range came about.

Back behind the prison, not far from the graves, Maggie would regularly take the adults in shifts for target practice. By 'adult', I mean anyone older than Carl's age, because he had apparently become the cutoff for what was considered grown up now.

We were hell bent on keeping the prison, on surviving.

Then the thirtieth day without an accident came, but it started off normal enough.

I was watering the crops before the sun had risen too far early in the morning; Rick was digging a little ways away, preparing a plot for a new garden so we could start some fall produce. Rick had headphones in, listening to a battery-powered mp3 player Michonne had found, but he took them out when Carl approached him.

"Livy," Rick called over to me.

"Yeah? What's up?" He waved to me with his hand, so I walked over.

"Do you know what's wrong with Violet? Or any of the other pigs?" I looked over to their pen. A few of them were listless.

"They were that way yesterday, but I figured it was just because it was hot." Rick seemed pretty satisfied with this, so I finished watering and headed inside to get some breakfast from Carol.

"You have a run today, huh?" I asked Daryl, stopping by the cell on my way to the kitchen.

"Yeah." Daryl never was a man of many words.

"Good luck," I said, taking his hand to squeeze it before he continued on packing. "Be safe."

I was in the guard tower when the group headed out, but I waved to Daryl from the perch. Beth had told me that she didn't believe in goodbyes anymore. I wondered if that was true, since Zach was going with them on the supply run.

With Daryl, Tyrese, and Sasha on the run and Rick gone to check Daryl's hunting snares and traps we had security beefed up a bit for the day. It still made us anxious to have some of our manpower gone.

I was walking around the perch when I noticed that Patrick wasn't playing kick ball with the other kids during their recess from Carol's lessons. Patrick was a people pleaser; he liked to do well. I was surprised he wasn't playing, but there he was sitting in the shade.

Rick came back first, with a tale of a woman in the woods who had kept her husband's decapitated, reanimated head and tried to feed him to it.

"I thought she _was_ a walker," he told me and Hershel. "She looked like one. Something about her skin just wasn't right. When she couldn't kill me, she took herself out instead."

The supply run group came back a member short. Beth didn't cry, but she did reset her tally.

"She doesn't cry anymore, she says," Daryl told me through the dark before we went to bed. He was sitting across from me on mine, telling me about the run.

"Did he suffer?" I asked.

"He was bit by a walker and then crushed by a helicopter."

"What a way to go." It sent chills up and down my spine. I got up and made sure our cell door was locked for the night. I reckoned it was Daryl's recounting of Zach's death, or Rick's story of the creepy Clara, but whatever it was, something didn't feel right.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

* * *

I was beginning to think that there was no such thing as a normal day anymore. I was right to think that Patrick sitting out from kickball was a little weird. As it would turn out, sometime during the day or night Patrick died and became reanimated.

Not everyone kept their cell doors closed while they slept. D block was hit pretty bad.

The best I could figure it, Patrick rose just before sunrise. I'm sure he took some chunks out of someone and it snowballed from there.

Most of our new Woodbury friends didn't get up as early as we did. There were enough of us that most people who had children didn't have bigger jobs, so most of D block's residences were still in bed when Patrick and the other one started looking for something new to eat.

That also meant most of the main group was outside. Maggie and Glenn had been on watch most of the night. Michonne was getting ready to go looking for the Governor again. Carl and Rick were out tending to our small farmland.

I was walking the perimeter when the sound of gunshots made me jump.

"Who's…" I said, and then I heard yelling.

"Help! Please! Come quick!" It was Lizzie and her little sister Mica, coming running out of D. I saw Rick go running to the inner gate and I followed after. We got inside just as Daryl, Sasha, and Tyreese came pouring out of C block.

"There's walkers in D!" Glen yelled.

"What about C?!" Rick yelled back at him.

"It's clear! We locked the gates to the tomb. Hershel's on guard," Sasha informed Rick before running towards D.

"It ain't a breech!" Daryl added, crossbow in hand.

The word chaos doesn't even cover what was going on inside.

Carol scrambled to get people inside cells where they would be safe while the rest of us set to work trying to take the walkers out.

"Check all of them! Every cell!" Rick yelled over all the noise. There were cells on the ground floor _and_ up on the catwalk, and any of them could have had walkers in them. New walkers. Strong walkers.

"Oh." I came up behind Daryl just after he shot a walker that had come after Glenn. "It was Patrick. All of them." He shot the poor girl Patrick had been feeding on before she could rise.

There was a big mess in the aftermath. Dead bodies with bite marks had to be dealt with before they could come back. The survivors were scared and some were hurt.

But I was most interested in Patrick. His eyes were…different. I mean, all walker eyes look pretty gross, all yellowed and the irises and pupils filmy. But Patrick's eyes looked weird and almost bloody. Looking at them made me shiver.

Then there was Charlie. His cell door was locked, but he was just as undead as any walker. Charlie wasn't bit and he wasn't hurt, but he was a walker and there was blood all over his face.

"Hell, he was just eating barbecue yesterday," Daryl said to Hershel. "How could somebody die in a day just from a cold?"

"I had a sick pig, it died quick." Rick said. "Saw a sick boar in the woods."

"Pigs and birds, that's how these things spread in the past." Said Hershel. "We need to do something about those hogs."

If I had learned anything from living in college dorms it was that if one person got sick, damn near everybody got sick. Our living conditions in the prison were more crowded even than that.

All I could think of was the Mexican lady and what she had told me about the old man in their group. About his fever.

I put my hand on Daryl's arm and motioned with my head for him to follow me.

"Daryl," I said, "that woman who stopped by here not long ago, the one that only spoke Spanish? She said her people were sick, remember? She told me an old man in her group started bleeding from his eyes and his nose and his mouth out of nowhere. I asked Hershel about it but he said he figured it was some kind of stroke."

Daryl's blue eyes were hard as they swept over the carnage that had become cell block D.

"You reckon it's the same thing?"

"It's a hell of a coincidence if it's not."

Daryl took a big breath and sighed. "All's we can do is wait."

Dr. S had the idea that it was probably some kind of flu.

"The last major flu killed thousands," I heard him telling Rick. "It swept through the nation. People were dead within days because their fevers became so high."

"The Spanish Influenza, right? In the early 1900s?" I asked, and Dr. S nodded.

"Listen, I gotta tell you something." I said to Rick. "I told Hershel already, but we had no idea it would be something like this."

"What's that?" Rick asked. He was sitting on the stairs with Dr. S. Glenn and Daryl were collecting bodies.

"When that Mexican woman came here, she told me about a man in her group that died like this. Like Patrick and Charlie, blood pouring out of their faces."

"It's not uncommon for flu strains to mutate, especially when living conditions aren't clean and people are in close contact with each other. This right now is the perfect time for something like that," Dr. S. said. Rick shook his head. There was worry in his eyes.

"Rick," Dr. S said, putting his hand on his shoulder. "We should burn these bodies. To try to keep it from spreading."

"We don't burn our own," Rick snapped. "We bury them."

I didn't say so, but I agreed with Dr. S. Compassion be damned, if we wanted to stop it now we needed to do what needed to be done, even if it was horrible. But I wasn't on the council. It wasn't my call to make.

"At the least, all of those in this cell block should be kept away from the others for a little while. We can't have those exposed to it spreading it around." Dr. S. wasn't letting up on Rick.

"Okay, fine," Rick said and he got up to leave. He motioned for me to follow, already disobeying doctor's orders.

"Could you clear that out a bit? The gunshots really drew them in." Rick pointed out to the outer gate, where walkers were ramming themselves against it.

"Yeah. Let me know what the council decides we should do about this."

There were still some weak spots in the fence, and walkers aren't light. If our outer fence went down, the inner one wouldn't be far behind.

I was trying to draw them away from where they had become so grouped and so heavy, but they just weren't having it. They were fixated on that one spot, or else they were stuck because there was so many of them. The fence started to cave.

"Maggie!" I yelled; she was still in the guard tower. "Maggie, I'm gonna need help!"

She went running, yelling for Rick and Daryl. I knew Maggie was fast and I'm sure it only took a few minutes at the most, but it felt like hours before she and some others got to where I was.

"It's starting to give!" I told Rick, but everyone was already in motion, driving anything sharp through the gaps in the chain link.

_If it's not one thing, it's another,_ I thought, shoving my pipe into the eye socket of a walker. But when I pulled on it to bring it back it got stuck, pulling the walker's weight against the fence even more in my attempts to get it loose.

Someone's gloved hand covered mine and yanked the pipe hard enough to pull it loose.

"Thank you," I said when I realized it was Daryl, but I doubted he heard me over all the commotion.

"You're welcome." He kicked the fence, trying to move some of the fallen weight off of it.

"Are you seeing this?" Sasha said suddenly. "Is someone feeding these things?!"

"No wonder they wouldn't move," I said. "They know this is where they get food."

That small distraction when we stepped away was all it took. One of the walkers climbed higher someone, putting weight on the top of the fence. It started to bow inward, collapsing under the weight. The ones in the back pressed on the ones in front and they were so heavy that the walkers on the fence started coming through the chain links like chunks of cheese. I probably would have puked if I had had time.

I flipped my pipe around and placed it flat against the fence, pushing it with my hands to try to counteract the weight. Everyone else was doing the same anywhere they could put their hands so they wouldn't get bit or scratched. But there were only seven of us and dozens of walkers.

But it wasn't any use, and Daryl pulled us away from it.

"They'll come through," I mumbled. "The fence can't hold that weight."

Then Rick said, "Daryl, get the truck. I know what to do."

It wasn't hard to guess where Rick was going with this after he took a look towards the pen where we kept the pigs.

"Hershel did say we had to do something about them," Glenn said, following Rick's lead. "It's not like we could take the chance and eat them now anyway."

I stepped away, looking at the bloody rats by the fence. They were only half-eaten, with their heads bitten off.

"They should have eaten the whole thing," I said.

"Unless someone has been feeding them to the walkers through the chain link." Sasha glared down at the rats. But who would feed the walkers?

Rick and Daryl loaded the pigs into the bed of the truck and drove it out away from the gates. These walkers were lucky, getting hand delivered meals. At least pigs are bigger than rats. I hoped it would keep them occupied long enough to fix the fence.

We burned the pig's fence, to try to keep it from spreading. But we still didn't burn the infected bodies.

Rick gave Carl his gun back and started carrying his own. Our time of peace was over.

"What are we going to do with the people who have been exposed?" I asked Daryl. We were stacking big rocks across the weakened part of the fence as a temporary fix until we could get something better done.

"A block. Hershel says we should separate anyone who's been exposed."

"That's death row," I said and then I kind of chuckled. "It's kind of ironic."

"It's clean," Daryl said.

"What about Judith? What are we going to do with her?" Daryl shrugged.

"I don't think we've planned that far yet."

"Daryl?" I said, pushing some curls off my face from where my hair started falling from my braid. "Can I tell you something? And you won't tell Rick or Hershel?"

"What's that?" Daryl looked confused, his eyebrows all knit together over his clear eyes.

"We should've burned those bodies. I know how it sounds, but if we don't want it to spread it should have been done."

"I know," was all that Daryl said in response.

Our work was mostly quiet then, as it usually was. I was placing the last rock when I felt Daryl's hand lightly on my shoulder.

"I know there ain't a lot we can do about it, but try not to get sick, you hear?"

I smiled. "You too, Daryl. Be safe."

Anyone who had gone into D was put to work handling anything that might have been infected. Glenn finished burying the bodies of everyone who died that morning with Maggie's help. I helped Sasha gather up all the bedding and clothing from the cells, to be burned. We would need something strong, like bleach, to clean the whole block before anyone could live there again.

Dr. S. and Hershel went to work performing amputations for anyone who survived a bite and generally just tending to everyone who was involved in the attack. People were coming down with the sickness quick.

Karen and David became the first residents of A block, because they were already showing signs of being sick. But their stay wasn't long. Someone shot both of them in the head and burned their bodies on one of the balconies on A.

* * *

**A/N: **_Some dialogue/scenes in this chapter are taken directly from _The Walking Dead_ episode _"Infected". _I do not own this episode and no copyright infringement is intended._

Okay, legal stuff out of the way, I have a question for readers of this fic: Do you like that this chapter followed the show closely? Honestly, it felt like lazy writing on my part, but a lot of important stuff happened in this episode so I felt I should include it in the story. Please let me know if this is okay with you guys!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

* * *

Things moved fast from the day Patrick died to the day the prison fell. It was found that Carol was the one who killed and burned Karen and David.

I saw her logic in it, but it still wasn't okay. Daryl wasn't happy about Carol's banishment. I could see it in the way that he sulked around the prison.

"Hey," I put my hand on his arm to stop him while he was pacing C block. He almost didn't stop, so I tightened my grip around his arm and forced him to stay still.

"Daryl," I said. "Listen. Carol can take care of herself, she'll be fine out there. Hell, she's probably safer. Tyreese would kill her if he knew."

When Tyreese had found Karen and David's bodies he also ended up in a fist fight with Rick.

Daryl shrugged and his face had a stubborn look to it but he said, "I know."

Which is probably as close as he would get to admitting someone was right.

I smiled up at him and he kind of smirked back.

Barring that, I really thought maybe things would be okay. I mean, Hershel had convinced Maggie and Rick to let him help with the sick, which was really needed because Dr. S ended up catching the virus and dying from it.

And the outer fence had fallen, but we fixed that. No one even got hurt.

Maybe it was stupid optimism, but I really thought we'd be able to handle things. I guess that was the only way I was keeping myself going, by telling myself that.

But then Michonne and Hershel went missing.

I don't think I can even convey what happened just days after the virus hit. I don't like to think about it. I try to make myself forget. I will tell you what I can:

It was hectic.

The Governor was more hateful and evil than I ever could have imagined.

Seeing that bastard, that cowardly, sorry excuse of a man cut Hershel's head off will forever be burned in my mind. So will Maggie and Beth's sobs at the sight.

The fight after the prison fell was the first time I ever killed a living person. I knew that I had to do it, because if I didn't they would have killed me. But that didn't make it easier and I didn't feel good about it. When I had the time to think of it several hours later I cried and threw up.

There were only two things from that day that I let myself keep:

The first was just after the Governor had shown up and let us know that he was giving us until sunset to make a decision. Either we could get out and forfeit the prison, or we could put up a fight.

We had all went back into the prison. Rick had chosen the fight. I didn't blame him. There were too many sick to move, we wouldn't have gotten out by sunset anyway. Better to at least try to have some control over it. We were sent to gather our weapons. To pack supply bags. To get ready to fight, but to get ready to run, too.

I was packing as best as I could in mine and Daryl's cell, weighing whether it would be better to pack canned food or some of the dried food Carol had made.

I didn't want to run. I didn't want to have to leave again. I had already lost one group of friends, and I wasn't aiming to lose another.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" I asked. My back was to Daryl, but I knew he was counting his arrows.

"Gotta be," he said. I hadn't turned to look at him. I felt Daryl's hands on my shoulders. I tipped my head back to smile at him, but my chin was wobbling.

"I don't want to leave this place."

"I ain't lookin' forward to it." I leaned back into him. For a moment, Daryl's arm came around my shoulders, pulling me to him. In that one embrace, I felt stronger than I had moments before. The Governor was a big threat; that was true. But in that moment I knew we would survive, even if the prison didn't.

After we went outside, everything becomes a tense blur. Here is the area of things I wanted to forget. I hardly remember the Governor's words or Hershel's blood coloring his shirt like a wine stain. The woman I shot in the head has become faceless in my mind, though I can still feel the hot splatter of her blood on my cheek if I think about it.

I only vaguely remember Maggie trying to herd everyone onto the bus. Almost everything is a soupy mess of noise and streaked colors in my memory. I didn't get on the bus. I had seen the little kids come pouring out of the prison earlier, guns in hand, Judith swinging in a car seat between Mika and Lizzie. I was going back to look for them when someone caught me around the waist.

"You gotta go now or you're not gonna get out at all," Daryl said, pulling me back and pushing me towards a hole in the fence.

"But-" I started to say. Daryl cut me off, pushing an extra gun into my hand.

"Get into the woods. Try to get as far way from here as you can. I'll try to catch up with ya."

Daryl looked back over his shoulder. Maggie's bus was driving away. I couldn't see anyone living in the hoard of the dead that had taken over the prison.

"I'm gonna make sure nobody's left." Daryl didn't have to say it, but I knew he was blaming himself for this, because he had stopped looking for the Governor to take care of the prison.

We were both hesitating at the hole in the fence. It could have proven to be deadly, we both knew that. But time kind of stood still for a moment.

I was suddenly overtaken by the thought that I might not see this place or any of my friends or Daryl ever again. The feeling overtook me, and before I could give it a second thought, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. The kiss was feather-light and quick. Even though it awakened a desire in me to kiss Daryl more, even though everything in me was leaning toward him, there wasn't time for that.

When I pulled away from him, Daryl's usually clear blue eyes were clouded over with something I couldn't quite read, but he looked shock for a split second before the hint of a smirk came to his face.

"Go!" he said, fully pushing me through the hole in the fence.

Despite all the destruction around us, he almost sounded amused.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**_Chapter Fifteen_**

* * *

I didn't cry until I was in the forest, but once I started I wasn't sure I'd be able to stop. I cried for Hershel, the image of his sad smile seconds before the Governor sunk Michonne's sword into his neck burned behind my eyes. I cried for my friends, because I had no idea if they were alive or if I'd ever see them again. And I cried for myself, too, the full weight of killing someone settling over me as the adrenaline wore off.

I had killed someone. A living someone, not an undead someone. And I hadn't even felt _bad_ about it. The me who could kill someone without a second thought or care was new and foreign and scary. It made me so sick I actually threw up.

The tears were too heavy and I couldn't catch my breath and I knew it was dangerous with all the walkers around due to the prison attack, but I had to sit down. I sat against a tree trunk and cried, gulping for breath and wiping at the tears as best as I could using the bandana I still had in my pocket from when everyone was sick.

Stupidly all I could think of was _The Outsiders_, when Ponyboy and Johnny decide that they weren't going to cry anymore. I knew that was what I had to do, too. I couldn't cry anymore.

Still wiping tears from my face, I knew I had to make a plan. I had to take inventory of what I had, which wasn't a whole lot.

I had my knife, and an extra smaller one tucked in my boot. I had my gun, and as many extra bullets as I could fit in my pockets, which wasn't a lot. I had the clothes I was wearing, luckily including a jacket. It was hot that day, but I was glad I had the foresight to wear one in case something bad happened. In the chaos, no one had thought to grab anything else.

I didn't have any food or water. I was unfamiliar with the state of Georgia, which is what had gotten me so lost last time. And I was alone. These were not good odds.

I racked my brain, trying to remember the things Daryl had taught me when he took me hunting with him and the things I had already known about survival.

_Roll your weight. Try not to take any flat-footed steps. Keep quiet._

_Running water is safer than still water._

_Don't eat plants unless you know for damn sure what they are._

You can go a few weeks without food, but only a few days without water. If I was going to spend an unknown amount of time in the woods, my first priority needed to be a water source. Plus following a stream or a river is a good way to keep yourself from getting lost.

I figured the commotion at the prison would buy me a little bit of time by keeping the walkers busy. I pushed myself to my feet. My legs were shaking, but I forced myself to take steps forward.

We had scattered in all directions. I didn't have the highest hopes for finding anyone from my group any time soon. Instead, I focused on tuning in to my surroundings. Was that rustle over there made by an animal or a walker? Is that break in trees over there just a clearing or is there a body of water? Was there anything I recognized that could help me get to the road or the train tracks? I knew that there were both nearby, because Daryl had shown them to me on runs.

But the truth was, I didn't know very much about Georgia outside of the cities and that definitely was not to my advantage.

_Water and shelter_, I thought. _That's what I need the most. It will be dark soon._

The Governor had given Rick until sundown to make his choice. It wasn't quite sundown when the fight started, and already I was losing daylight fast. If I didn't find some kind of shelter, I couldn't risk sleeping that night. Not alone out in the open.

"This fucking sucks," I mumbled to myself. I walked as quietly as I could, one hand on my gun in its holster. As I walked, the light got dimmer and dimmer. The only saving grace was that my hunch seemed to be right, all the walkers in the area were hung up at the prison.

Well, that and once night had risen so had a bright full moon. At least, since I had to walk through the night, I was able to see more than a foot in front of me. All around me was nothing but trees. I had to walk through the night.

I had no way to keep track of the time, and the farther into the night it got, the more exhausted I became. I jolted with a start when my foot suddenly landed in something wet. Without even meaning to, I'd find a tiny little creek.

I probably should have taken the time to wait for morning and boil it, but it was moving fairly fast, so I immediately fell to my knees and filled my cupped hands. I drank again and again. The cold water felt great, and it woke me up a little. When I had drank enough, I stood up and looked around, trying to make out details in the moonlight.

There didn't seem to be anything moving anywhere, which was a good sign there were no walkers or other people around. I had found water, but it was becoming pretty obvious that finding a shelter was going to be hard while still deep in the woods. I decided to stick to the little creek for the night and then head towards what I thought would be where the road was in the morning.

It occurred to me that I could pretty easily find the fallout shelter that I once called home… but I couldn't go back there. Just like I wouldn't go back to the prison, even if it weren't over run with walkers.

* * *

About mid-day the next day I found a little house near the edge of the woods. I circled it twice and looked in every window before deciding it was empty of walkers and people. I was exhausted, but I wasn't about to take any chances.

Somebody had already ransacked the place for food. I was hungry too, but I was really just looking for a place to sleep at that point.

Even though I was pretty sure it was empty, I did a sweep of the house and opened every single door, including closets. When it was clear, I moved some furniture in front of the front and back doors and laid down on the couch. I was asleep instantly.

* * *

When I woke up again, it was early morning. I must have slept hard, because I was stiff and sore when I stood up. My throat was dry again and my stomach was growling. I stumbled into the tiny kitchen and half-heartedly tried turned the handle on the sink, not really expecting anything.

But after a few sputtering air pockets, clean water started to come through.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I said, even though there was no one around to hear it. I had had a suspicion that the house might run on a well even though I hadn't seen one nearby because it was still set back from the road and I was still far from a city.

That house really was a spot of much needed good luck. The water was cold, but I took a shower in it anyway. I struck gold again when I opened the drawers in one of the bedroom and found women's clothing. Let me tell you, as shitty as you feel, a shower and clean clothes can go a long way in helping you feel a little better.

I found a backpack in another bedroom. It was bright pink and glittery. These were not times to be choosy, though, so I took it. An extra pair of socks, an extra shirt, a flash light and batteries, a big plastic water bottle all filled up, some Band-Aids taken from a first aid kit; whoever had come through this place before left a lot of useful stuff.

Even though I didn't want to, I needed to move on. I felt safer inside walls, but if I wanted to try to find any of my friends, I had to move on from there.

_Did the Governor get all the freakin' walkers in a ten mile radius to unleash on the prison? _I thought. There were none outside. It was serene, with just regular animal noises around. I mean, it was nice I hadn't had to deal with one yet, but it also made me very anxious. I didn't want to get comfortable and let my guard down only to encounter some.

All clean and feeling a little more prepared, I head towards the road. But on one of the trees near the road, I noticed a big map.

"Terminus," I read aloud to myself. "Sanctuary for all." A chill ran down my spine. If anyone was alive, if Rick was out there somewhere, I _knew _this is where he'd go. Rick would try anything for Carl.

I wasn't the best map reader, so I stood in front of it for a few minutes, trying to figure it out. Then I just pulled the map down from the tree and started walking. I needed to get to the train tracks, and then follow those it looked like. Lucky for me it was still morning, so I had plenty of time.

I didn't feel safe walking on the actual road, so I headed back into the woods a bit and decided to walk parallel to the road. I had been walking for a few hours when I heard a very familiar voice call out:

"Claimed!"


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

* * *

Then there was Daryl breaking away from the tree line and I was so happy to see anyone, especially him, that my knees felt weak and I didn't even notice he wasn't alone.

"Oh my God, Daryl! I'm so happy you're okay!" I said, pulling him into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist and I felt one of his come to rest around my shoulders but he was still stiff rather than relaxed.

"Stay with me," he whispered right before a different voice said, "Well ain't this a sweet reunion, Len. Looks to me Daryl found what he was huntin' when we came across him."

I peeked around Daryl to see two ragtag men who looked dirty in a way that had nothing to do with the dried mud and blood on their clothes. I could feel that Daryl didn't trust them, and they didn't trust Daryl either.

"Usually we don't put claims on womenfolk. They're more of a community thing for us. But seeing as Daryl doesn't use the claim rule for hardly anything I think we can make an exception for him. Same rules apply to her as does anything else. I know you must be itchin' at the reins, Len, but you touch the girl and I ain't gonna stop whatever Daryl decides to do with ya."

Just hearing the guy talk sent a cold shiver through me. Who were these people and why the hell was Daryl with them? A community thing? I didn't even want to imagine what he meant by that.

"Alright, love birds, let's head out."

Daryl kept his arm around my shoulders as we walked slower behind the other two. Again Daryl dipped his head low to whisper to me, "Don't leave my sight, ya hear? And don't talk to them. They're dangerous."

I wanted to ask Daryl so many questions, but I knew now was not the time. It was much better to let these people assume we were the only ones in our group. No need to let on that our group had been strong or that there was possibly a lot of us still out there.

So instead I leaned into Daryl and wrapped my arm around his waist. He didn't seem entirely enthused about his companions and yet he was continuing to stick around. Biding his time, maybe. Maybe there were more than two in this scary group.

"My name is Joe, little lady. Do you got a name? Or should we just call you Daryl's old lady?"

"Her name is Livy," Daryl said before I could answer.

"She a mute?" Len said, laughing.

"I can talk fine," I answered, meeting his sneer.

"That's real good, you see, because we got some rules here. Not many, but a few. For example, if you want something you gotta claim it, the same way Daryl claimed you. We don't do sharing here, and if you're thinkin' that Daryl is gonna be sharin' with you then you're in for a lesson, Livy."

I felt a pang of hunger in my stomach, but I wasn't going to let on how long it had been since I had eaten. I had a feeling Daryl wasn't one for this claiming rule, so I wasn't going to use it either.

Joe motioned to Daryl's hand. I hadn't noticed the half a rabbit Daryl had been holding. I could tell Daryl wasn't the one who cut it in half; some of the entrails were hanging out. Daryl's cuts were always clean.

"You want somethin' to eat, you gotta get it yourself."

We were all silent until we met up with a few more guys who looked just as skeevy as Joe and Len. I didn't even want to know how Daryl had become mixed up with them. Their eyes were all darkly hungry. The way they looked at me scared me more than the empty yellow gaze of walkers ever had.

"Who's this?" One of them asked.

"Daryl's friend. Sorry boys, but she's been claimed." There were some noises of disapproval, but Joe silenced them with one shake of the head.

Honestly, if it weren't for Daryl's arm around my shoulders, I would have ran fast and hard away from those men. The only good thing about these people was that they got us to the train tracks I was looking for. I noticed that Joe hung back from the rest of his men a bit, walking more with me and Daryl than with them.

I had no desire to talk to any of them. Lucky for me they didn't seem to want to talk to me either.

"So what's the plan, Daryl?" Joe asked.

"How so?"

"Well, you're with us now but you ain't soon?"

"Yep."

"So what's the plan?"

"Just, uh, looking for the right place is all."

"Oh, we ain't good enough for you, huh?"

"Some of you ain't exactly friendly."

"You ain't so friendly yourself. You know you need a group out here."

"Maybe I don't."

"No, you do. You should be with us. People don't got to be friendly. We don't have to be nice, we don't have to be brothers in arms. We just got to follow the rules. You claim. If you steal, you keel. I know that sounds a little funny, but nobody laughs when something goes missing. And you don't lie, 'cause that's a slippery slope indeed."

"What happens if you break 'em?"

"Oh, you catch a beatin'."

Not a lick of the conversation was directed to me. I tried to keep my head down and keep quiet. It was obvious that I did not factor into Joe's long term goals, but Daryl did.

Joe picked a derelict tin shed for us to spend the night in. He also told Daryl outdoor cats couldn't pretend to be indoor cats. Daryl wasn't cut from the same cloth as Joe, though—there was a difference between liking to do things your own way and being comfortable in the wild and being a brute animal. There was a difference between Joe and Daryl.

"Wait," Joe said. "Ladies first." He made a bowing motion. He wanted me to open the doors and lead the sweep.

"No." Daryl said firmly.

"Everyone's gotta pull some weight," Joe said. I put my hand on Daryl's chest when he tried to step forward.

"It's okay," I said. I was pretty sure there weren't any walkers in the shed. They would have heard us talking outside it, and it sounded silent in there. That didn't mean there weren't people inside, of course.

Despite my heart pounding against my ribs, I pulled my gun from the holster as I walked past the men in the group. I could feel their eyes on me and I didn't like it, but I kept my gaze on the door. I pulled it open with my left hand, immediately aiming my gun into the space with my right.

The air inside was hot and musty, but aside from some cars, the place was completely empty.

"It's clear," I said, but Joe's men came busing through with their weapons raised anyway, nearly knocking me over. Daryl caught me by the elbow before I could fall over.

This is where I got to see the claiming in action. Trailing close behind Daryl, as I'd been told, I watched every one of those stupid claiming jerks rudely snarl 'claimed', like a rusted out old Ford was a five star hotel or something. But Joe was right, Daryl did not join in on the claiming.

It really became apparent to me how little Daryl trusted these men when he insisted I come with him back into the woods when he needed to use the bathroom.

Everyone had hardly gotten settled in when that Len guy came over and demanded, "Give it here."

Daryl motioned for me to move back, and I did, but I also kept my hand on my gun. I felt sick still about killing that woman at the prison, but I hated these men so much in the few hours I'd been with them. I wouldn't second-guess myself at all for killing one of them.

"My half was in the bag. Now it's gone. Now ain't anybody around here interested in no half a damn cottontail except you. Ain't that right?" Len continued.

Daryl was tense. Poised. He was ready for Len if he was stupid enough to come after him.

"You're the only one still thinking about that crap," Daryl spit back at him.

"Empty your bag," Len demanded.

"I said step back!" Daryl shouted.

Len and Daryl were squared off against each other. I had faith in Daryl, but I also knew if things turned south, I would be the only one there to back him.

Joe, who seemed to play judge, jury, and executioner for these men, stepped forward and snatched the bag from Daryl. I felt my breath go still and my heart speed up.

"Did you take his rabbit, Daryl?" Joe asked neutrally, spreading his arms. "Just tell me the truth."

"I didn't take nothin'," Daryl muttered.

"What do we got here?" Joe kept his carefully neutral tone and upended the bag. Both halves of that little cottontail hit the floor and my heart dropped into my stomach. I tightened my grip on my gun handle.

"You put that there, didn't you?" Daryl accused Len, moving closer to him. "When I went out to take a piss?"

"You lied," Len accused. But Daryl wasn't budging.

"Didn't you?!" Daryl gave Len a push. I took a small step forward.

"You lied. You stole." Len pushed Daryl back. The rest of the claimers had started creeping towards the fight like a pack of wolves. "We gonna teach this fool or what, Joe?"

"Whoa, whoa," Joe said, suddenly a peacekeeper, moving between the two of them. "Now, Daryl says he didn't take your half of the rabbit, so we got a little conundrum here."

I was keeping an eye on the fight, but I was also looking for gaps among the claimers, for other doors and low enough windows. There was a very good chance Daryl and I would have to make a break for it.

"Either he's lying," Joe continued, "which is an actionable offense or…"

Joe chuckled before turning to Len. "You didn't plant it on him like some pussy, punk-ass, cheating, coward cop, did you?" Joe's demeanor changed as he spoke to Len, taking on this eerie quality.

"'Cause while that wouldn't be specifically breaking the rules, it'd be disappointing."

"It would." Len agreed. It occurred to me right then that Len was stupider than I pegged him for earlier. I could see that Joe knew Daryl hadn't stole that rabbit. Len was being had, but he didn't know it.

I felt slightly better, knowing Joe knew it wasn't Daryl, but I still didn't take my hand from my gun.

"I didn't," Len continued. My heart picked up the pace again, so that I could feel it drumming in my temples. That was a lie. Len had lied.

"Good," Joe said amiably. He patted Len on the shoulder, and then he punched him in the face. It was obviously a surprise for the claimers, all of whom gave a little start.

"Teach him a lesson, gents. He's a lying sack of shit. I'm sick of it. Teach him all the way." The claimers instantly descended on Len. My stomach dropped at the sight and I took a few steps back. I had just thought about killing them, sure, but I wasn't a part of their group. I was obviously not welcome. But they had been together a long time, it had seemed, and that meant nothing to them. They came down on Len viciously.

"I saw him do it," Joe said to Daryl.

"Why didn't you try to stop him?" Daryl asked. I could hear them, but my eyes were glued to the men beating Len. It was horrible, and I couldn't look away.

"He wanted to play that out, I let him. You told the truth. He lied. You understand the rules. He doesn't. Looks like you get the head, too."

Then Joe came to me. "For reward of Daryl being so honest, I'm gonna let him share that rabbit with you. As sweet as it is that you'd defend him, you better keep your hand off that gun unless you plan on aimin' it at the dead from now on, darlin'. Or I just might take back what I said about Daryl being able to lay claim to ya."

I backed as far away from the fight as I could. Daryl did the same, moving our stuff into a corner away from it all. We laid down with our backs facing the whole mess.

The shop floor was concrete—it wasn't going to make for a good sleeping place, but at least Daryl was there and I'd be safe. I ended up giving Daryl my backpack as a pillow and my jacket and Daryl's leather vest as blankets. Daryl stretched one of his arms out for me to lay my head on, and threw his other one over my waist.

I was shaking terribly. I knew Daryl could feel it, but he didn't comment on it. He just wrapped his arm more securely around my waist.

I still don't know how we ever managed it, but we somehow fell asleep to Len's death blows.

* * *

**A/N: **Some scenes and dialogue taken from _The Walking Dead_ season 4, episode 15: _Us_. No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Greg Nicotero (director), and writers Frank Darabont, Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, Charlie Adlard, Nichole Beattie, and Seth Hoffman.

Hey, y'all! I just wanted to say that I am very sorry if you don't particularly enjoy chapters where I basically rewrite the show to include Livy. Believe me, it feels like lazy writing on my part. However, I feel that there are certain episodes that are too crucial for the shows development and/or Daryl's character development. If it really is that much of a bother to my readers, please feel free to PM me and I will try to find a way to minimize chapters like this one in the future. Thank you for reading! :)


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**_Chapter Seventeen_**

* * *

I woke up to Daryl's voice.

"Livy," he said softly, shaking my shoulder. "Time to get up." I was stiff from sleeping on the concrete, and Daryl had to help me to my feet.

Len's blood stained the floor in the middle of the shop. I slung my backpack on while Daryl quickly counted over his arrows before sliding them onto his back with his crossbow.

"Do you have any clue where we're going?" I whispered to him. He shook his head slightly.

"We won't be stayin' with them much longer anyway." I didn't know what Daryl had planned, but I tingled with excitement at the thought of leaving these people behind.

Daryl took my hand as we walked through the shop, following our merry band of murderers. Len's body was lying just outside the door. Someone had made sure to shove an arrow through Len's eye, into his brain.

I choked back a gag and turned away. Daryl, bless him, covered Len's body with a sheet.

Apparently it was breakfast time. Some of the men went into the woods to look for food. Others started to make fires to cook whatever they had. Wherever it was Joe was taking this group, he didn't seem in any great hurry to get there.

I helped Daryl cook the dumb rabbit that got Len killed and would have gotten both of us killed if Joe had believed his lie. If it weren't for how hungry I was, I don't think I'd have been able to eat any of it. But I had gone three days without food by that point and I was starving.

We didn't talk. There was nothing to say—nothing safe, anyway. I had a thousand questions for Daryl: Did he know anything about any of our friends? Did he think they were alive? Did he know if Glenn ever got out of the prison? Did he know if anyone had finished the Governor's job, and stopped Hershel from becoming one of those _things?_

There were always ears and eyes around with these people. It was too dangerous to let anything slip.

So it is a silent breakfast of sharing rabbit and the water I have left before slipping to the back of the group again once we're on the move.

But when Daryl leaned down to offer me his hand to help me stand up, he whispered, "How many bullets do you have left?"

"About a dozen," I said, the weight of the bullets in my pocket suddenly feeling heavier. Daryl nodded and pulled me up, taking my hand again before we began walking. If Daryl had a feeling things were going to turn ugly, I knew he'd probably be right.

Joe had us walk along the train tracks. I wasn't sure if he had any particular destination in mind. I thought about the map I had taken, the one that promised sanctuary. I wasn't sure if I believed this Terminus place would have sanctuary—I wasn't sure that existed anymore—but I knew somewhere deep down that was how we would find our friends. If they were still alive.

"Sanctuary? It's bullshit. There ain't no such thing as sanctuary anymore," Joe said when we came upon one of the Terminus signs. Hearing him say it made me want to believe that Terminus would be a good place. I'd spent roughly a day with those men at that point and I hated them so much that I didn't want any part of me to coincide with them.

"You never know," I said, before I really even thought about it. I felt Daryl squeeze my hand; a warning to stay quiet. To not be contradictory. He knew as well as I did that I was second-rate to those men, not a person but an object.

But Joe just laughed. "Keep dreamin', sweetheart."

"That's not where we're headed, anyhow," Joe continued. "We're lookin' for someone who did us wrong. We need to teach him a lesson. We found a house a few days ago, a good place to lay over for a night or two. But there was a coward hidin' in that house. Strangled one of our men in the bathroom and left him to turn and then ran away."

I am certain Daryl felt the same chill that I did then at Joe's words. _Rick, _I thought. _Or Glenn. Tyreese. Bob. _It could have been any of our friends. Every option made me sick to my stomach.

We kept walking, me and Daryl silently except for when Joe saw it fit to talk to Daryl. I made sure to keep my mouth shut. I spent my time instead trying to memorize where we were. I tried to identify markers we could use later—the faded white cross on one side of the track, a tree that had long ago been struck in half by lightning, a place on the track where one of the wooden boards had been snapped and was sticking straight up in the air.

As night fell we decided to go into the tree line and set up a camp under the cover of the woods. That is, until the faint flickering glow of the fire caught one of the men's attention.

"Joe," he said, nudging his leader. "Do you see that?"

"I do indeed. Stop your unpacking, boys and Livy. I reckon we ought to check this out before setting in."

My stomach was in painful knots. I thought I would throw up the rabbit we had eaten earlier. I watched Daryl casually run his hand over his stash of arrows, counting them. I touched my gun, making sure the safety was off so it would be ready as soon as it was out of the holster. I know that's bad gun etiquette, but in that moment I didn't care.

These people were no hunters. They didn't walk quietly like Daryl, like I at least attempted to. When one of the men crashed into something metal in the dark as we made our way to the light coming from a campfire, I thought Joe would rip his head off.

"Watch where you're fucking going," Joe whispered. Even his whisper sounded dangerous.

But we must have been quiet enough, because before I knew it Joe had the barrel of his gun pressed against the side of Rick's head and my heart just about gave out.

"Oh, dearie me." Joe said. Michonne was right beside Rick; she tried to pick up her sword, but one of Joe's men kicked it away from her and aimed his gun at her head, too.

"You screwed up, asshole." Daryl and I were hanging back, but I had a clear view of Joe as the other men came out of the trees. "You hear me? You screwed up. The men made a loose circle around Rick and Michonne.

One of the men, a bigger one, went over to the car parked beside where Rick and Michonne were sitting. I about fell to my knees when I realized who could be in there. _Carl. Judith. _

My hold on Daryl's hand was the only thing keeping me upright.

"Today is a day of reckoning, sir." Joe said dramatically. He had a flair for that, theatrics. So had the Governor. "Restitution. A balancing of the whole damn universe."

All of Joe's men had their guns pointed at Rick and Michonne. The bigger guy looked tauntingly at Carl in the car. I could tell it was him at this point because he had sat up in the seat he must have been sleeping in.

"Shit, and I was thinking of turnin' in for the night on New Year's Eve." Joe laughed at his own dumb joke. "Now who's gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh? Ten Mississippi. Nine Mississippi. Eight Mississippi."

I was frozen in shock, but I knew Daryl's mind was running a thousand miles a minute, trying to think of a way for all of us to get out of this.

"Joe!" Daryl called, letting go of my hand and moving forward. He motioned for me to stay back, but I followed him anyway. He wasn't going in alone against those dicks to try and save our friends. We walked around the back of the car. Rick and Michonne looked shocked to see us. Under different circumstances, their expressions would have been hilarious, truly.

"Hold up," Daryl said calmly.

"You're stopping me on eight, Daryl."

"Just hold up." Daryl moved forward, into the circle of men surrounding Rick and Michonne. I followed his lead. I didn't know what Daryl had planned, but I wanted to be as close to him, Rick, and Michonne as possible.

"This is the guy that killed Lou so we got nothing to talk about." One of the men said. I could see his finger lingering closer to the trigger of his gun.

"The thing about nowadays is that we got nothing but time," Joe said in that stupid, fake amicable tone of his. "Say your piece, Daryl."

"These people, you're gonna let them go." I didn't think Daryl would skip reasoning all together and go straight to threats. I glanced over at him, anxious. "These are good people."

"Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that." Joe replied. "I'll, of course, have to speak for him and all 'cause your friend here strangled him in a bathroom."

"You want blood, I get it." Daryl dropped his crossbow on the ground.

"_No_," I said, but my voice didn't carry any noise. Daryl glanced over at me and motioned with his head for me to step back, but I couldn't. I couldn't move if I tried.

"Take it from me, man. Come on."

Joe looked at Daryl like he absolutely couldn't believe what he was saying. I'm sure he couldn't. Sacrifice, friends, family…these things meant nothing to him.

"This man killed our friend," Joe said. "You say he's good people."

I knew where this was going. I reached out to touch Daryl's arm, but he didn't take any notice. I was shaking more now, wound up with adrenaline and terror and more than a little nervous energy.

"See, now that right there is a lie," Joe said, wagging his finger at Daryl. "_It's a lie!_"

Daryl pushed me out of the way a split second before one of the men hit him in the stomach with the butt of his gun.

"Come on," Daryl said, not backing down from the men. But he didn't fight them back either.

"No!" I said again, much louder this time, though I knew it would do no good.

"No! _No!_" Rick was shouting, too.

"Teach him, fellas. Teach him all the way." I tried to pull one of the men off Daryl, but he turned and swung, hitting me in the face so hard it laid me flat on the ground.

"I'd move out of the way if I were you, Livy." Joe said.

"Or not," Joe added because the man who had punched me hauled me off the ground and twisted one of my arms behind my back. I could already feel my eye swelling shut from his blow. The others slammed Daryl up against the car, still beating him.

The bigger man pulled Carl out of the car, putting him in a headlock.

"You leave him be!" Rick yelled, moving away from Joe and his gun. But Joe caught him by the coat collar, making him sit back down. The man held a knife to Carl's face. Carl was in tears.

"Listen," Rick said to Joe. I could see him shaking with rage. "It was me. It was just me!"

"See, now, that's right!" Joe was talking to Rick like he was a damn child. "That's not some damn lie! Look, we can settle this. We're reasonable men."

I tried to move forward, but the man who had my arm twisted it so hard I thought it would break.

"First, we're going to beat Daryl to death. Then we'll have the girls. Then the boy. Then I'm gonna shoot you and then we'll be square."

I kept looking between Daryl, down on the ground now and taking kicks from the two men beating him, and Rick, shaking where he sat under the gaze of Joe's gun. I could hear Carl near me sobbing and begging with the man holding him hostage.

The bigger man pushed Carl down on the ground, moving on top of him. Joe was laughing the whole time. Apparently rape and murder are just hysterical.

"Let him go," Rick said at the same time the big man told Carl to stop moving and squirming. Carl was fighting him, but he was trying to get Carl to turn around onto his stomach. We all knew what was coming.

"Let him go," Rick repeated. And then he head butted Joe, making Joe stumble backwards and pull the trigger on his gun. Luckily for us it shot into the ground…not so lucky for Rick, it went off right next to his ear. I could see how disoriented it made him.

But he got up and slugged Joe right in the face. Rick was still weak, though, not yet recovered from the prison falling and his brawl with the Governor. It wasn't hard for Joe to get control over him again. I felt my heart drop down into my stomach. We were not in good shape.

"I got him," Joe said. "Oh, it's gonna be _so _much worse now!"

Michonne slapped the gun out of her face, earning her a slap from the man holding it. I was still trying to think of a way to get the man to let me go.

The big man had Carl on his stomach by then, one hand pushing Carl's face into the ground while the other moved towards his belt buckle.

It happened so quickly. Joe got his arms around Rick to hold him down and Rick… he sunk his teeth into Joe's neck, ripping out Joe's jugular vein with his mouth, blood spraying everywhere.

There was moment where we all stopped, all of us shocked by what just happened.

It didn't slow down after that. I kicked behind me, connecting with the man's knee cap so that he let go of me. Before he had time to move again, I whirled, pulling my gun from the holster and shooting him in the head.

I heard a shot behind me. Michonne had overpowered the guy aiming his gun at her. Daryl was on his feet again, but I shot one of the men who had been beating him. Daryl caught the other, punching him in the face. Both Michonne and I turned our guns on the man holding Carl.

"I'll kill him," he said, holding the knife to Carl's face again. "I'll kill him!"

"Let the boy go!" Michonne shouted at him, her eyes wide and nostrils flared. Michonne and Carl were close; he meant a lot to her. I heard the sick _squish _as Daryl stomped in the head of the other guy who had been beating him up.

Rick pulled his knife from Joe's body before turning to us.

"He's mine," he said dangerously.

The guy pleaded with Rick, but Rick sunk his knife into him, pulling it up towards his chin and effectively gutting the guy.

It was a damn bloody night. All of us, except for Carl, killed that night.

And I didn't feel bad about it at all.

* * *

A/N: Dialogue and scenes taken from _The Walking Dead _episode 4.16, 'A'. All rights belong to the owners of the show/franchise. No copyright infringement intended.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**_Chapter Eighteen_**

* * *

The night was long. I thought the sun was never going to rise again. But it did, and with its light it brought the brutal, grim reality of the night right before us. Rick was absolutely bathed in blood. Carl's face was cut open from being pushed into the ground. He wouldn't leave Michonne's side.

It became obvious through the night that they did not have Judith with them. I didn't want to know, didn't want to even imagine, so I didn't ask.

When there was enough light to see, Daryl took my face in his hand, turning it this way and that as he looked at my eye. He let out a low whistle.

"Is it that bad?" I asked. I couldn't see out of the one eye, and it felt incredibly tender when I touched it, but of course I didn't know what it looked like.

"Take a look in the car mirror," Daryl said, and I did. One side of my face was swollen and stained with an angry red and purple bruise.

"It's not too bad," I said and Daryl shook his head.

"I told you to stay back."

"I wasn't gonna let you go into that alone. Not that I was super helpful or anything, but still." Daryl smirked.

Michonne took Carl on a walk. Rick went to look for a stream he said was nearby, to wash the blood away. Daryl and I got to moving the bodies off the road.

"Are we going to burn them?" I asked, but Daryl shook his head and looked down at Joe's body in disgust.

"Bastards ain't worth the effort."

Daryl took the head ends while I got the feet. I don't know for sure, but I guess the head end must be heavier. None of the men, not Daryl or Glenn or Rick, would let any of the women have the head end. We always carried the feet end.

What kind of world did we live in where an aspect of chivalry was carrying the heavier end of a body?

The same kind of world where someone can go seamlessly from roughly dropping a body into a ditch to softly taking someone's face in their hands, careful not to touch their black eye, and kiss them on the lips.

"Next time I tell you to stay back," Daryl said, still cupping my face in his hands, "you stay back, Livy. You hear?"

"Yeah, I _hear_," I said, a little sassily.

Despite my black eye and the throbbing headache that came with it and wouldn't go away, and the fact that we were surrounded by people that we killed just last night, I was happy. Incredibly happy. That kiss had caught me off guard, but it was in no way unwanted.

With all that had been happening, I had more or less forgotten that I had kissed Daryl right before fleeing the prison. This new kiss made me blush in a happy way—it showed that Daryl felt the same and I didn't have to feel embarrassed or unsure about what I had done.

Daryl was always so stoic, masking his emotions. We still had work to do, but it made me feel happy and bubbly to think that maybe, under his carefully neutral expressions, Daryl had wanted to find me as much as I wanted to find him those few days after the prison.

We got all of the bodies moved into the bar ditches beside the side of the road. We didn't even bother taking anything from their bodies. As Daryl would say, the bastards weren't worth it.

"Did you talk to Rick last night? Are we still going to Terminus?" Daryl and I took seats on the trunk of the car where Carl, Michonne, and I spent the night. Daryl had given me a boost up, lifting me by the waist, even though I am certain I could have gotten up there on my own. We were sharing a cigarette Daryl pulled from his pocket.

"Yeah, we are." He didn't sound too pleased with it.

"You don't feel good about it?"

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette and blowing the smoke out in perfect smoke rings. I tried to do the same when it was my turn, but I failed at it so badly that we both had to laugh.

"It's hard to feel good about much lately," Daryl said. I knew what he meant.

"I was tellin' Rick last night, but I didn't have time to tell you when we were with Joe. I was with Beth before I found you."

I looked up at him—this was news to me. I hadn't even thought to ask Daryl if he had been with any of our friends.

"Where is she?" I asked, trying to fight off the icy cold that came with realization. "She's dead, isn't she?"

"I don't know," Daryl said, hanging his head. "I told her to run, 'cause there was a whole mess of walkers. And when I got through them and went to find her, she was just…gone. There was a car with a white cross on the back. I tried to follow it, but it was too fast."

"Do you think someone took her?" That was a worse thought. Beth being dead meant it was over for her, but that she wasn't suffering. Being dead was safer than being alive. And Beth was so sweet, so kind. I didn't want to think what someone would do to her, especially if it was someone like the grade A assholes we did away with last night.

Daryl didn't say anything. I knew he was blaming himself for losing her, for not keeping her safe. Just like he blamed himself for the Governor coming back and the prison falling.

Judith and Beth in one day. It was getting hard to keep hope for the rest of our friends.

When the others had returned, Rick pulled out one of the maps that had been hung up around the area. I remembered I had my own—I had forgotten about it when I found Daryl.

"I'm not sure how much I believe this 'Sanctuary for all' stuff," Rick said, tracing the lines of the map with his finger. He had laid it flat on the hood of the car. "But I think if someone else saw it, some of our own, they'd head there. I think it's the best chance we have of finding our people."

It wasn't bad logic, but if Rick and Daryl were already apprehensive about Terminus, I wasn't going to be too hopeful about it. No one else had a plan, so Terminus it was.

We counted our bullets before heading out. I had nine. Michonne had six. Rick had an even twelve; Carl had ten. Since he used his crossbow more than anything, Daryl had the most at sixteen. We would have to be very careful with our bullets.

"Don't use the bullets on walkers if you don't have to," Rick said. "Save those for people."

Rick didn't look too good, even with Joe's blood washed off of him. We had all been half-sick at the prison, spread too thin with the infection sweeping through our people. And the fight with the Governor obviously took a lot out of him. Despite it, Rick fell seamlessly back into his role as our leader.

"Terminus might be a good thing," Michonne told him. "We were a good thing."

"I'm not taking any chances," Rick said, glancing back at Carl. We were walking so that Rick and Michonne were in the front, with Carl more towards the middle and Daryl and I behind. It was a formation with a clear goal: Protect Carl. The kid didn't look good. His face was all scratched up and he still hadn't spoken to anyone but Michonne.

The prison was a great thing. It was the thing that saved my life. I don't think I would have been nearly as lucky had I ended up at the Governor's Woodbury instead of Rick's prison.

Walking beside Daryl under a blistering Georgia sun, all I could do was hope that Terminus was led by another Rick, and not by a Governor.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**_Chapter Nineteen_**

* * *

The closer we got to Terminus, the more strained the atmosphere felt. I don't think any of us, besides Michonne, had even the slightest bit of hope for this place. And I think even Michonne's careful optimism was a front for Rick and Carl.

Rick decided we should walk in the woods, under cover of the trees, rather than openly on the road. He stopped us just outside the fence line, sliding a duffel bag he'd been carrying off his shoulder.

Rick dug a shallow hole for the duffel bag. _Where the hell did Rick find a collapsible shovel?_ I thought.

Daryl watched him quietly. He didn't say a word, but you could tell from the looks he and Rick exchanged that they were communicating.

"Just in case," Rick told him, and Daryl nodded. When Rick stood back up, he turned to me.

"Livy, I want you to stay outside the fence."

"What the hell, no. We can't just leave her outside while we all go in," Daryl said before I even had a chance to react.

"Think about it, Daryl. Livy has her own weapons and these ones out here. She's the fastest in our group, by far. If things start to go south inside Terminus, it would be helpful to have someone they don't know about on our side."

I knew Daryl was going to protest again, so I put a hand on his arm.

"It is smart," I told him.

"If things seem to go alright in there, wait a day and then come to the gates," Rick told me. "Maybe it won't look so suspicious that way."

If I angled myself just right, I'd be able to see through the fences and trees into Terminus. Hopefully no one would be able to see me from the inside.

"I'll do it," I told Rick, ignoring the angry set to Daryl's jaw. Rick nodded his thanks and Michonne squeezed my hand before turning to walk with Rick and Carl.

"I'll be okay," I told Daryl softly. "Hell, I might be safer out here than y'all are in there."

"Just stay safe out here," he said gruffly, looking towards Terminus rather than at me. I smirked at him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they all set off, going over the fence instead of through the front gate like Rick had just told me to do later, if it was safe.

As for myself, I found a place in the tree line not too far off from where Rick had buried the weapons that seemed like it would offer a lot of coverage but still allow me to look into Terminus.

Daryl looked back quickly, scanning the fence line. I knew he was looking for me. He nodded, though; he couldn't see me. I wasn't visible. I sighed and settled into my hiding spot, nervous for my friends.

They ran quietly, weapons ready. But they were soon in a building. I couldn't see them anymore, and that made me even more nervous.

I had no way of knowing what was going to go on. All I could do at that point was wait. To make it worse, I could only see the back from where I was, and to move to where I could see the front would make me much more visible. So for now at least, I was stuck staring at the back and straining my ears to hear anything.

I was concentrating so hard on hearing anything, anything at all, that the silence became like a roar in my ears. And then…

When the gunfire started, it spooked me so bad that I fell right on my ass.

I stood up, backing out of my hiding place, ready to climb the fence myself and get in there to help when a voice stopped me.

"And where do you think you're going, princess?"

I barely looked at the guy. I gave him a once over, saw the huge gun in his hands, already prepared to fire. All I could think of were Rick's words: _Livy's the fastest._

And then I turned and booked it like I never had before. The gunfire being aimed at my feet was a big motivating factor in how fast I ran. I needed to get away from them and I needed to do it quickly if I wanted to live long enough to try to help my friends.

I heard the guy yell at someone, a woman named Amanda, telling her to follow me.

I ran until my lungs were on fire and my heart felt too big for my chest, and then I kept running in a zigzag pattern, hoping to lose this Amanda chick that I could hear keeping pace behind me.

Why the hell did they have to have a good runner, too?

I ran until I couldn't anymore, until my legs were basically Jell-O and I had no choice but to stop. I hadn't lost Amanda. Rather, she fell when I did, so we were a tangle of arms and legs fighting against each other.

I realized I was taller than her, and stronger, but she was squirmy as all get out. I tried to get her into the headlock maneuver Rick had taught all of us, but my arms weren't tight enough around her neck and she managed to get her mouth close enough to bit into my arm.

"Fuckin' A!" I yelled, pushing her and kicking her in the ribs to get her away from me. She had dropped her gun somewhere in the chase. I pulled mine out of my holster and aimed it at her.

And then I shot her. Right in the head, like she was already a walker and not a person. I didn't even think about it. It was a reflex more than a decision.

I had killed four people in a week. What was becoming of me?

I didn't have the time to mull it over, though. I knew they would hear the shot, and when Amanda didn't come back, they would come for me. I needed to put some distance between me and them.

Running was out. I would have to walk. But first I took a rag hanging out of Amanda's pocket and tied it around my arm where she had bit me. She had bitten pretty deep, and taken some of the skin off. It would make an interesting scar.

I was shaking a lot as I tried to tie the rag around my arm. I mean, I had just shot an unarmed person point-blank—it doesn't exactly leave you feeling too great.

"It was you or her, Livy," a soft, familiar voice said behind me. "You had to do it."

I looked up, startled, and looked behind me to see Carol.

I threw my arms around her, forgetting entirely about the wound on my arm. Carol hugged me back and then helped me tie the rag tightly around the bite.

"What's going on?" Carol asked. "I heard the gunshots."

"The prison fell," I told her, and she nodded.

"I know. I saw the end of it. I was too late to help, but I have Tyrese and Judith with me."

"You have Judith?! Oh my God, Rick will be so happy!" I said, not thinking. "Well, I mean, he will be if we can get him out of Terminus."

"They're inside?" Carol asked, pointing toward where Amanda and I had come running from.

"Yeah, Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl. I don't know where anyone else is."

"Tell me everything you've seen, everything you know." Carol said. "We have to get them out."


	21. Chapter Twenty

**_Chapter Twenty_**

* * *

There wasn't a lot that I could tell Carol, but I did what I could. I told her that Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Carl had hopped the fence in order to go through the back entrance and that Rick had asked me to stay behind so that there would be someone on the outside, just in case.

I told her about the bag of weapons Rick had hidden in the woods. I didn't think the Terminus snipers that were in the forest had seen it, because they hadn't said anything about it and I didn't see any of our guns or the machete that Rick had put in there.

"We're going to make a distraction," Carol said, showing me a stash of fireworks she had in per pocket. "But we can't go in there like this. I don't think you saw all the walkers, you were running the opposite way. C'mon."

I didn't know what Carol had planned, what she meant by 'we can't go in their like this', until she caught a walker and took it down before cutting its stomach open.

"Oh, God, Carol…" I said, catching on. But she was in a hurry.

"We don't have much time, Livy."

I held my breath as Carol smeared walker blood and guts all over my back and face. I wasn't lucky enough to have a tarp like she did. I did her back for her, and then we did our fronts.

"Glenn and Rick did this in Atlanta." Carol told me. "Walk quietly and try not to draw attention to yourself, and they won't even realize we aren't one of them."

I really hoped, even in that moment before facing danger, we'd be able to find some new clothes for me later. We walked as quickly as we could through the horde of walkers without drawing attention to ourselves.

Carol was right, it was surprisingly easy. We made it back to the fence in what felt like no time at all.

We arrived just in time to see some of the people from Terminus drag Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and Bob out of a train car. I had been hoping that our friends wouldn't be in Terminus. I was wrong.

"I'm going to shoot this into that propane tank," Carol said, holding up a firework. "If you move quickly enough, that should create enough of a problem and give you time to open all those train cars."

"You go ahead of me, over the fence. I'll come in with the walkers." I nodded to Carol that I understood. She was whispering so quietly that I could barely hear her, so that our new walker friends wouldn't catch on that we weren't one of them.

I waited for Carol's firework to explode the propane tank before hopping over the fence. As soon as my feet were on the ground, I stayed low—the explosion had opened a hole in the fence and I could see walkers coming in, and while it drew a lot of people towards it, there were still snipers poised on the rooftops.

Right then, it was safer for our people to be inside that train car, so I didn't immediately open the one that we saw the Terminus people take our guys from. I opened some others first, to add to the confusion. People come streaming and screaming out of them, adding to all of the noise.

I jumped when I heard gunshots, but when I looked up, the snipers weren't shooting. They were falling from their posts.

"Thank you, Carol," I said, going for the train car that most likely had our friends inside. I pulled the door open, but nobody came out. So I poked my head in.

"Hey, guys. I don't think you're aware, but there's a lot of bad shit going down out here, and your help would be greatly appreciated."

"Livy!" Carl said, coming forward. I realized, belatedly, that I didn't have any weapons to give them, but that was okay. They had some prison-looking stuff they must have made while in the train car.

"What the hell, y'all work fast. I wasn't gone but maybe an hour or two."

I ushered them all outside. There were a few people in there that I didn't know, but I didn't really care. The more people in that situation, the better.

At the same time everyone came out of the train car, Daryl and the others came running up. They _did _have weapons.

"Do I want to know why you're covered in walker guts?" Daryl asked me, handing Sasha a gun.

"I take it y'all haven't seen Carol yet, then," I said, sinking my knife into a walkers head. Since I was indeed still covered in guts and gore, I was able to move through the crowd of walkers more easily and clear a path for everyone else.

"Just follow me," I told them, leading them through the chaos and towards the hole Carol had made in the fence.

We were quickly back in the woods, where Rick took over to lead us back to the spot he'd buried the other weapons.

"We need to go back and finish them off," Rick said, digging the bag out of the ground with his hands. I nodded, but no one else seemed to agree.

"The fences are down," Maggie said. "They'll run or die." But I knew Rick's mind was not on Terminus but on Joe, and what almost happened to Carl.

Just then, Carol came running up to us.

"Did we get everyone?" She asked, right before getting hugs from everyone but me. Carol, thanks to her tarp, was walker blood-free. I was still covered in it.

"I don't know how you two did that, but I'm glad for it," Rick said, giving Carol a big hug.

"Um, Livy?" Carl asked, pointing to my arm. "What is that?"

I had already forgotten my arm, where Amanda had bit into it. At some point in all the mess, the rag had fallen off. Luckily, Carol had only spread the guts across my torso, legs, and face, so none of the walker blood had gotten in it.

"It is a _person _bite, not a walker bite!" I said, backing up because Michonne had already unsheathe her sword. "So don't cut it off! I need it!"

"It is," Carol said, reaching out to touch Michonne's arm. "I saw it happen."

"I guess when you're already a cannibal, it don't make much difference if the meat's cooked or not." Daryl said, shaking his head

"Wait, those bastards were cannibals?!" One of the people I didn't recognize, a big redheaded guy, asked. It was news to me, too. I mean, obviously Terminus was full of awful people. I just didn't have any idea _how _awful.

"We don't have time for this," Carol said. "We need to go get Tyrese, and let Livy wash up."

I had pretty much already forgotten about Tyrese and Judith.

"You're gonna walk with me even though I smell like dead people?" I asked Daryl. I had hung back to take up the rear simply because I was covered in walker guts. Daryl did the same though, falling into step beside me.

"Might as well," he said with a shrug, but he smiled over at me.

Carol takes us back to a cabin, where Tyrese is standing outside, holding Judith. Rick and Carl ran to her, hugging the baby between them while they both give her kisses.

"I took care of Martin," Tyrese said. I didn't have any idea who that was, but apparently he was dead. Tyrese wouldn't let us go in the cabin. He insisted we needed to move on.

So, with me still covered in walker guts, we move forward and away from Terminus.

"You're going to have to settle for a creek bath until we can find you some clothes. Sorry Livy," Rick said. He's smiling. I knew having Judith back would make him happy. Him wanting to go back to finish off the people from Terminus was forgotten.

"That's cool, I'll just be stealthier than all of y'all."

Being covered in walker gunk sucked, but I was entirely too happy to be with all of my friends again. And our new friends, who introduced themselves as Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, and Tara.

When we came to a sign on the outskirts of the woods that read 'Sanctuary', Rick picked up a handful of mud and fixed it so that it read 'No Sanctuary'.

Joe's group had been a bust, not that I had high hopes for it. Terminus was somehow even worse than Joe's group. I was really hoping that whatever we found next, they didn't like to murder and they didn't like to eat people.

That's not a lot to ask in the middle of an apocalypse, right?


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**_Chapter Twenty-One_**

* * *

With Sasha and Maggie as look-outs, I got my creek bath. The one problem was that all I had in the backpack I took from that house—was that really only a handful of days ago?—only had another shirt and socks inside. Which meant I had to put on the walker blood-stained, though technically clean, jeans on. Since everything had been taken from our friends in Terminus, no one else had extra clothes, either.

I wasn't that mad, though. The damp pants actually felt good in the never-ending Georgia heat. Was winter _ever _going to come?

We didn't have much of a plan, other than 'get away from Terminus'. We were mostly wandering in the woods, trying to scavenge anything we could from long-deserted camps and the occasional car.

"I am somewhat clean now," I told Daryl, coming upon him rummaging through the trunk of a car on the edge of the forest. "I might even be fit to re-join what's left of civilization."

He looked up at me from the trunk and smirked. "Good enough for me."

"Have you found anything in there?" I asked, coming around to stand beside him.

"No, not a damned thing." Daryl placed his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. "I'm glad you got us out of Terminus in one piece."

"Me, too. I prefer my friends on their own two legs, not on barbecue spits." He smirked again and kissed me hard on the mouth.

"Let's stop gettin' separated. I can't handle it every few days."

"Amen to that!"

When I moved away from him, my still-wet jeans had left splotches on his own.

I left Daryl to rummage around some more. I was supposed to be helping watch Judith, since I was the only one who got hurt in that Terminus raid. The bite wasn't _that _bad, but it was still a more or less open wound and human mouth are insanely disgusting. Even though it wasn't a walker bite, I still had a decent chance of it getting infected. So I'd been put on baby duty so I was at a lesser chance of getting the bite dirty.

"Come here, pretty girl," I cooed to Judith, taking her from Tyrese. He had been sitting on a big rock, bouncing her on his knee.

"We're like _The Babysitter's Club_," I told Tyrese and he laughed.

"Sasha used to read those books all the time."

Judith was a good baby, and she was smart. She didn't cry a whole lot, and I think that's because she learned to be quiet from us shushing her all the time so she wouldn't attract the walkers. I mean, she did cry sometimes, when she was very hungry or very wet, but for the most part she was quiet.

"We are all so happy to see you, baby girl." I had hoped Judith would be alive, but I knew in the back of my head it was a likelihood she hadn't survived the prison attack.

I gave her a kiss on her blonde little head.

"Rick wasn't doing too good," I whispered to Tyrese. "Having her back is bringing him back from the brink."

"Hershel… the prison… I can't really blame Rick for not being all in his right mind."

I nodded in agreement with Tyrese before turning back to Judith.

"We are going to find another place to live, so you won't have to keep riding in Tyrese's backpack." Judith babbled back to us when we talked to her.

It was amazing that despite all the things that little girl had seen and been through, she was still able to grow and develop.

Everyone came back from their search about an hour later. At least I think it was an hour. It was hard to tell time when time didn't really exist anymore.

"Alright, let's see what we got," Rick said.

Daryl had found something in that car trunk: some emergency blankets. That was good for Judith, at least.

Carol and Tyrese had filled up water bottles up creek from where I had washed off, so we had water.

Glenn found a can of peaches, but it was nowhere enough to split between so many people. There were over a dozen of us.

Abraham and Rosita had found some bullets, which was great, but it wasn't food. Which we very much needed.

"Looks like I better go check those traps," Daryl said, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and heading back into the woods. He had set traps around the area almost as soon as Rick had decided we had put enough distance between us and Terminus.

I liked our new friends, for the most part. Glenn seemed to trust Tara entirely, and Rosita and Abraham were alright. Eugene, though…there was something odd about him. He didn't know how to survive, that was obvious. Anyone could tell he relied entirely on Rosita and Abraham to keep him alive.

I really wanted to know _why. _

I didn't ask, though, because we had bigger concerns on our hands and they had already shown they were with us, so there wasn't really much of a reason to question them. So I just sat quietly holding Judith.

"Let's move into the forest a little deeper, to gain some coverage," Rick said. We all picked up our things. Tyrese turned around and I opened up his backpack, settling Judith in amongst all the blankets in there.

"Stay quiet, Judy," I told her.

"Shouldn't we wait for your other guy?" Abraham asked Rick. I had a feeling he wasn't very good with names.

"Daryl will find us," Rick told him. "He's a hunter."

And Daryl did find us. We had been walking for a few yards when he popped out of the woods, spooking Rick into raising his gun.

"We surrender!" Daryl said with a smirk, raising his hands up and displaying the bounty from his traps.

Rick was about to speak when we suddenly heard yelling:

"Help! Help me! Somebody help me!"

It sounded like it was coming from deeper in the forest. Daryl turned towards the sound instantly, and I was certain he had the right direction. Carl started to move forward, but Rick threw his arm out to stop him.

"No, Carl," was all Rick said, but Carl was arguing instantly.

"We can't just leave them! Not everyone is a bad person!"

That seemed to hit Rick. I agreed with Tyrese, we had been through so much lately that no one could place blame on Rick for wanting to stick to his guns. But obviously Carl disagreed. Rick gave him a nod.

I kind of didn't want to go. After the prison, the Claimers, _and _Terminus back-to-back, I was not in the mood to be meeting any new people. I glanced over at Daryl, but he was watching Rick, waiting for an answer to Carl's statement.

"Okay."

And like that, we were all off, following Daryl's lead.

The source of the noise was easy enough to find: A solitary man, dressed in a suit with a preacher's collar, trapped on top of a rock with walkers all around him. Obviously he was not used to dealing with walkers, but for us, they were easy pickings. We had all the walkers dead and the man down in just a few minutes.

His name was Father Gabriel, he said.

Rick was questioning him as soon as his feet had hit the ground. Not that I blamed him. He thought Gabriel was some kind of decoy, with a larger group waiting to ambush us. This wasn't the case, though.

He was just an extremely lucky man. Or maybe blessed is the right word. I wasn't sure I believed in any of that anymore. Either way, Father Gabriel took pity on us and led us back to his church. He seemed safe enough, mostly because he was totally clueless.

Gabriel had run out of supplies, so some of our people had to go get some, but it wasn't anything we weren't used to. Rick made Gabriel go with them, though, I guess as collateral if Gabriel really was part of a bigger group that was hiding somewhere. But it all seemed to turn out fine.

Plus he gave us his Communion wine. Which was awesome.

I hadn't had alcohol in a while, not since the prison when I shared some with Daryl. And none of us had had a solid meal in a few days, so the supplies and the wine put everyone in a good mood.

In fact, it put Abraham in such a good mood that he decided to deliver a little speech to us:

"I look around this room," he said, after getting our attention, "and I see survivors."

"Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors!" Abraham said, and he raised his glass of Communion wine and we all cheered back to him.

"Is that all you want to be?" He continued. I thought he was done; I had turned to say something to Daryl but Abraham's voice was both serious and oddly impassioned. We all looked up at Abraham, curious about what he was talking about.

"Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat? 'Cause you can do that. I mean, you got the strength. You got the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender. Now, we get Eugene to Washington and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

Everyone looked around at each other, except for Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. From what I'd gathered earlier, they had been with Abraham and his group before Terminus. They must have already heard this spiel.

"Eugene, what's in Washington?" Abraham asked.

"Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics, even of this fubar magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart."

"However this plays out," Abraham said, taking the stage from Eugene again, "however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. Come with us. Save the world for the little one," Abraham said, gesturing to Judith sitting in Rick's lap.

"Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there who don't got nothing left to do except survive."

We all looked around again, waiting for what Rick would say. But before he could say anything, Judith started babbling.

"What was that?" Rick asked her, laughing. "I think she knows what I'm about to say. She's in. If she's in, I'm in. We're in."

And everyone cheered. It was a happy moment. It was a goal, some place to go, something much brighter than what we'd just been through.

I was happy enough to be somewhere warm and dry, with a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. I was warm and buzzed from the wine and for the first time since the prison it felt like I could breathe.

I could tell that Daryl was still beating himself up over losing Beth, though. It wasn't his fault. There were walkers, they got separated—she was kidnapped. There wasn't anything Daryl could have done. But that didn't stop him from blaming himself.

None of us except Daryl noticed that Carol slipped out of the church during Abraham's speech. We all bragged about Daryl, about his hunter's awareness and instinct. It's no wonder that in all of our reverie we didn't take notice of Carol.

And I didn't question it when Daryl stepped outside after clinking his glass of wine against my raised one and giving me a quick kiss on the side of the head. I thought he was just going to the bathroom or something.

No, Daryl and Carol disappeared into the night. So much for 'let's not get separated', huh? That brat.

They were gone all of a sudden, and not much longer after that all hell broke lose again.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_Some dialogue taken from The Walking Dead Season 5, Episode 2: Strangers. No copyright infringement intended.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**_Chapter Twenty-Two_**

* * *

"Where's Daryl?" Rick asked me. I had gotten distracted talking to Eugene. I really wanted to know how he was going to save the world. I mean, Abraham and Rosita were all about this guy, and not in a 'we're friends so we protect each other' kind of way and more like 'our lives don't matter, only Eugene's does', and I thought that was weird. I wanted to know more, and the wine had given me the courage to be nosey about it.

Not that I got very far, because Eugene kept giving me answers like "That's confidential information" and "I can't explain that sufficiently in layman's terms".

"Oh," I said, looking up at Rick. "I don't know. He went outside earlier. He's not back yet?"

"No. And nobody's seen Carol or Bob, either." This was a big deal. We had _just _escaped Terminus, and against Rick's better judgment, we hadn't finished them off. There was a possibility, however slim, that there were still people from Terminus out there, and for obvious reasons, they would want us dead.

I felt instantly sobered up as a shot of cold went through my heart and my stomach tightened.

"You don't think…" I didn't even finish the thought, but Rick was already shaking his head.

"I don't know, Livy."

Three of our people were gone. Daryl was gone.

"Well, we have to find them!" I said, but I knew Rick wouldn't be having it. Everyone was tired, and it was dark outside. I knew before I even said it that we would have to wait until morning to do anything. Abraham wanted us to head out in the morning, though.

"I'll tell Abraham we can't go tomorrow. Not until we know where everyone is."

"Sorry," I told Eugene. "Looks like you'll be a little later getting to Washington."

"We should make sure your friends are okay," Eugene said. He wouldn't look up at me.

"_Our _friends, Eugene. Y'all are with us now."

Sasha wasn't happy with the thought of waiting to search until the morning. Her gun had a night vision scope on it, so she took it upon herself to go out searching for Bob. Tyreese and Rick had to go find her and bring her back. But she was still seething with anger.

"What are you doing?" Sasha asked Gabriel. "It's all connected. You show up, we're being watched, and now three of us are gone."

"I…I don't…I don't have anything to do with it," Gabriel answered. Sasha didn't believe him. But I did. He didn't seem smart or strong enough to be a double crosser.

Sasha pulled her knife out, despite Tyreese yelling for her to put it up.

"Who's out there?" She asked, stepping closer to Gabriel and ignoring him when he said he didn't have anything to do with it. "Where are our people?!"

Rick pulled Sasha away and started in on Gabriel himself. Gabriel dissolved into a bawling mess and admitted that he let his congregation get eaten when they came to the church seeking his help.

See? Cowardly. That's what he was trying to hide, his own cowardice. Not some big scheme to get us all killed, though I had no doubt he wouldn't have any trouble going AWOL if something bad went down and left us all behind.

Suddenly there was a whistle from outside. I was standing nearest the window, so I looked out it. I could barely make out the shape of someone lying in the grass outside as fear gripped my heart.

"There's something—there's someone outside, lying in the grass." I hadn't even noticed Glenn join me at the window. I was too busy trying to discern some features in the dark—I wanted very much to make sure the motionless figure wasn't Daryl.

We rushed outside to see who it was. It was Bob, minus one leg, plus a few walkers. We handled the walkers easily and got Bob inside. Inside, we all huddled around Bob so he could tell us what happened:

"I was in a graveyard. Somebody knocked me out. I woke up outside this place, it looked like a school. It was that guy, Gareth, and five other ones."

I didn't say it out loud, but I was thinking that Rick was right. We should have gone back and finished off the people from Terminus when we had the chance.

"Did they have Daryl and Carol?" Rick asked Bob.

"Gareth said they drove off." _Where would they go? And why?_ I wondered, and then I remembered something Daryl had told me a few days ago, about the car he said took Beth. I was certain that if Daryl saw it, he would go after it.

I rocked back on my heels. I wasn't sure if I was right or not, and I didn't want to say anything in case I was wrong. Maggie hadn't even asked about Beth, but I didn't want to get her hopes up.

"He's in pain," Sasha said. "Do we have anything?"

"I think there are pill packets in the first aid kit," Rosita offered.

"Save 'em!" Bob said. Sasha tried to argue with him, but Bob pulled his shirt down to expose his shoulder, which had a deep bite mark on it. I knew my own bite wound was from a human, but I still covered it with my hand. Mine hurt bad enough without an infection. I could only imagine what Bob was feeling.

Not only was Bob down a leg, but he was bit. There was no way he was survivor. He was a dead man already, sitting on that church floor.

Sasha took Bob to Gabriel's office, where there was a couch. I think all of us were feeling pretty useless. I sat down on one of the pews to wait. I didn't think there was anything else for us to do.

"Time for a reality check," Abraham called out. "We all need to leave for DC right now."

"We are _not _leaving Daryl and Carol," I said, turning in my seat to glare at him.

"They'll be back," Rick added after me. "We're not going anywhere without them."

"I respect that, but there's a clear threat here to Eugene. I need to extract his ass before things get any uglier. So, if y'all won't come, good luck to you. We'll go our separate ways."

"You leaving on foot?" Rick asked as Abraham walked away.

"We fixed that damn bus ourselves!" Abraham spat back.

"There are a lot more of us," Rick threatened, moving towards Abraham. I got up out of my pew to move with him. Bob was dying, Carol and Daryl were gone. Abraham may have thought Eugene was the Holy Grail, but I didn't.

"You wanna keep it that way? You should come."

"Carol and me saved your life." I told Abraham, stepping between him and Rick. "You owe it to her to sit your ass down and have the decency to see if there's a way for you to return the favor."

"Well listen here, curly Sue, I am trying to save _yours_! Save _everyone's_!"

"This whole yelling and towerin' over people might work on Rosita and Eugene, but it's not working with me, ginger." I yelled at Abraham. Rick put his arm out and pushed me back a little.

"We're not going anywhere without our people," he told Abraham again.

"Your people took off," Abraham grumbled.

"They're coming back!"

"To what, picked over bones?!"

"You're not taking the—" Rick began, reaching a hand out. But Abraham cut him off by yelling some more.

"Do not lay hands!"

"Hey, hey, stop! Now!" Glenn yelled, moving forward to where we were standing near the front of the church. He put himself between Rick and Abraham.

"Do you really think that you're gonna be any safer leaving right now, in the middle of the night?" Glenn asked Abraham.

"Yeah," Abraham said, turning away from Glenn. "Yeah."

"What about tomorrow?" Glenn continued. "We need each other for this. We need each other to get to DC. We can get through all of it together!"

Glenn and Abraham were squared up like they were about to fight when Tara came forward.

"I have an idea," Tara said. "If you stay just one more day and help, I'll go with you to DC no matter what."

"Glenn and Maggie, too," Abraham answered. I could feel the blood boiling inside of me. I hadn't had an opinion about Abraham one way or the other, but now I was pretty sure I hated the guy.

"No," Rick said firmly.

"Good luck, then," Abraham said. "I'm not interested in breaking up what you have here. Rosita, grab your gear." Yeah, you were, dumbass. Or you wouldn't have asked for Glenn and Maggie.

"Eugene, let's go." It was obvious that is not what Eugene wanted to do. You could see it on his face. But he was too scared to speak back to Abraham.

"Eugene. Move it." Abraham was a damn bully, and I wasn't one for laying down and cowering to people like him.

"I don't want to," Eugene said. My opinion of Eugene greatly improved when he said that.

"_Now,_" Abraham all but growled at him.

"Okay." And there went that little bit of respect I had for Eugene.

"You're not taking the bus," Rick said again.

"Try to stop me," Abraham threatened. Oh, I'd stop him alright. With a bullet in the ass he likes to talk out of so much.

Rick started to move toward Abraham when Glenn intervened again.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Glenn shouted at them. "Hey, hey, hey!"

Glenn barely got between them before a fight broke out. "You stay," he told Abraham, "you stay and help us, and we will go with you."

And there went the respect I had for Glenn, too.

Twelve hours, it was decided. Abraham and his group would stay for twelve hours. If Carol and Daryl weren't back by then, they would leave without us and take Glenn and Maggie with them.

"This is bullshit," I muttered to myself, going to one of the windows to watch out of it. I wasn't happy about it, not anywhere near. But there wasn't anything I could do.

Unlike Abraham and Rosita and Tara and Glenn and Maggie, I wasn't going to lay my life down for a coward like Eugene. I didn't even believe he was a scientist, either, but I wasn't sure if that was my anger talking or not.

Eugene could buck up and learn how to live in this world as far as I was concerned. He wasn't worth my life. Judith was, but not a grown man who was too scared to defend himself.

And I wasn't leaving without Carol and Daryl. No way in hell. The rest of the human race and Eugene's supposed cure be damned, they were more important to me. Abraham could get torn apart by walkers or Gareth, either one, and I wouldn't care.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**_Chapter Twenty-Three_**

* * *

"They think they're in control," Rick told us, preparing us for whatever the former residents of Terminus had coming for us. "We're in here, and they could be anywhere. But we know exactly where they are."

"Plan's got stones, I'll give you that," Abraham said, not bothering to look up from his hands and into Rick's eyes. I could have spit on him, I was so angry. But I reigned myself in for Daryl and Carol's sakes.

"Make our move before they do," Glenn said.

"That's right," Rick agreed. "They're not counting on us thinking straight."

"Are we?" Rosita asked. I could have spit on her, too. "I'm just making sure. It's a big play."

"Remember what these people are capable of," Rick told her. He turned from her to Tyreese.

"You up for this?" Rick asked him. He didn't have a chance to answer; Sasha appeared in the doorway.

"I'm going with you," she said.

"You should stay with Bob," Tyreese told her.

"No, I want to be out there. I want to be a part of this."

Sasha was angry, too. She had every right to be. I wasn't sure if that anger would make her an asset or a hindrance, though.

The plan was a fairly simple one. Most of the group was going to leave the church, make it seem like they were heading to the school Bob had told us Gareth and his people were at.

Obviously Bob would be staying behind; so were Judith and Carl. I would be staying, along with Gabriel, Eugene, Rosita, and Tyreese.

We were going to lure them into the church, where we would be able to trap them. Rick was right, they didn't know we knew they were watching. It was a perfect bait and snare, so long as we could pull it off.

Those of us staying hid. We all bunkered down in Gabriel's office, where Bob was resting.

"If they find us," I told Carl, "you let me handle it. Worry about yourself and your sister, you got it?"

"Yeah, okay."

It wasn't but a few minutes after Rick led the group out that we heard the doors to the front of the church give in.

"Well, I guess you know we're here," a voice said. I assumed it was Gareth. I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting him during the Terminus break, but he seemed like he was the one in charge of the cannibals. I cocked my gun and aimed at the door, ready to fire.

"And we know you're here," the voice continued. "And we're armed. So there's really no point in hiding anymore."

_Please don't let Judith cry,_ I thought. That is just what we needed right then, for our usually quiet baby to start crying.

"We've been watching you. We know who's here. There's Bob, unless you've put him out of his misery already. And Eugene. Rosita. Martin's good friend Tyreese. Livy, thanks for overrunning our house with the dead, by the way. Carl. Judith."

Gabriel had his rosary in his hands, muttering prayers to himself.

"Rick and the rest walked out, with a lot of your guns," Gareth taunted. "Listen, we don't know where you all are, but this isn't a big place. So let's just stop this now before things get more painful than they need to be."

The doorknob started to jiggle, but it was locked from the inside. I had made sure three times before Gareth had shown up.

"Look," Gareth went on, "you're behind one of these two doors and we have more than enough fire power to take down both. Can't imagine that's what you all want."

I heard the click of a gun cocking. I glance behind me, making sure Carl was ready. He was standing behind me but in front of Judith, with his gun raised and aimed, ready to fire. I gave him a nod before turning back to the door.

"How 'bout the priest?" Gareth asked. "Father, you help us wrap this up, we'll let you walk away from this. Just open the door and you can go. You can take the baby with you. What do you say?"

I shook my head at Gabriel. I didn't trust him not to do something stupid.

Judith started crying. "_Dammit!_" I whispered. I motioned of Carl to go to her, to try to calm her down.

"I don't know," I heard Gareth say. "Maybe we'll keep the kid. I'm starting to like this girl." The voice was just outside the door.

I took a deep breath to try and steady myself.

"It's your last chance right now to tell us you're coming out."

I didn't really hear the gunshots thanks to the silencer, but the weight of bodies hitting the floor made me jump a little. I knew they were back, but I kept my gun aimed at the door just in case.

"Put your guns on the floor," I heard Rick say.

"Rick, we'll fire right into that office, so you lower your gun—Ah!" Gareth was cut off by his own yell.

"Put your guns on the floor and kneel."

"Do what he says!"

I couldn't hear a lot of what was going on and being said after this. Nobody was yelling now that they were face to face, and the sound didn't carry well through the door. I was straining my ears to hear _anything_, that when I did hear something, it made me jump again.

What I heard was the sick, wet _squish _sounds of people dying and screaming. It was done in a matter of seconds. I didn't particularly like it, but I knew it had to be done.

The coppery smell of blood was heavy in the air when we came out of the office. It was on the walls, pooling on the floor, splattered on the pews.

"This is the Lord's house," I heard Gabriel say to Maggie and Glenn.

"No," Maggie answered. "It's just four walls and a roof."

Gareth's people were dead.

When the sun came up, we told Bob our goodbyes. It was obvious he wasn't going to be long for this world, and he didn't want to turn. Someone was going to have to do him in before it happened. It just wasn't clear who that person would be.

"Y'all got their brains last night?" I asked Michonne. We had left the church to move the bodies left over from last night's carnage into a pile to be burned. This is what we did. Buried our own, burned the dead. And our enemies, it seemed.

"Yes," Michonne answered. "They would have turned by now if we didn't."

"Y'all had to do it," I told her. "We all would have died if we didn't kill them." Michonne didn't have a problem with killing to defend the group. But I knew that didn't mean she liked it.

"I know," she said as we dropped Gareth's body on top of the pile. He barely had a head left.

We wanted to get them out of the way before we buried Bob.

I don't know who put Bob out of his misery, but I can tell you this: Sasha dug the hole for his grave entirely on her own. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

Abraham left with Glenn and Maggie after Bob's little funeral. With the worry of the Terminus people off our plates, I was back to worrying about Daryl and Carol. The more I thought about it the more I was convinced they must have gone looking for Beth. I didn't dare say it out loud, though. I didn't want to get Maggie's hopes up if I was wrong.

They left us with a map Abraham had marked with the route they planned to take to DC. All that was left for us who stayed behind to do was wait. And wait we did.

We didn't burn Gareth's group like I thought we should. Rick and Tyreese dug them a mass grave, though if they did that out of the kindness of their hearts or for lack of anything else to pass the time, I do not know.

Night fell with no sign of Daryl or Carol. We settled in to sleep as best as we could, avoiding places where blood had soaked into the floor of the church or the cushions of the pews. I was laying on a pew, trying desperately to convince myself to fall asleep. It was pretty useless though.

Michonne and Gabriel were sitting on the steps out front. I knew what had happened didn't sit well with Gabriel, but I didn't care. If it hadn't been done, he'd be dead, and he'd already made it obvious he wasn't above letting other people die in favor of his own life.

The church's front door opened. I sat up because I was going to talk to Michonne since I couldn't sleep anyway, but there were more than two people in the doorway. I could just make out Daryl in the moonlight coming in through the door.

"Daryl!" I said, rushing towards him. I threw my arms around his neck, not even noticing that the fourth person wasn't Carol. All I cared about was that Daryl was back and he was okay.

I felt his arm slip around my waist, hugging me to him.

"Where's Rick?" Daryl asked. "We need to talk to him."

Only then did I look over and realize that the person standing beside Daryl was not Carol but a kid that looked a little older than Carl.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**_Chapter Twenty-Four_**

* * *

"Where's Maggie?" Was the second question Daryl asked me.

"She and Glenn left. They went with that Abraham guy to Washington." I knew the anger showed through in my voice, but I didn't care. "Why? You found Beth, didn't you?"

"Somethin' like that."

I bit back the urge to say _'I knew it'_, because I did. I was right. Daryl wouldn't leave out of the blue like that unless it was for Beth, because he still blamed himself and felt guilty for her disappearing.

Daryl introduced us all to the boy he was with, whose name was Noah. According to Noah, he knew Beth and as far as he knew, she was still alive. They had tried to escape a place called Grady Memorial Hospital together, but Beth had gotten caught. Noah was planning on going back for her when he ran into Daryl and Carol.

Noah also told us about a policewoman named Dawn who apparently ran the place. We listened to Noah's stories in the sanctuary of the church, all of us seated on a space on the floor not stained by blood. I don't think Noah even noticed all the stains that had not—and would not—be cleaned out.

"But where is Carol?" Rick asked. Daryl hung his head beside me.

"She's at Grady Memorial, too. They take people. They took Beth and they took Carol."

"Why take people?" Michonne wondered aloud.

"They make you think that they helped you, and guilt you up so that you think you owe them. That's what Dawn does. She's terrible. She lets her male officers beat people and come on to women, and if you complain, Dawn tells you that they saved your life and you owe all of them for that."

Obviously we needed to get Beth and Carol out of there, and the only way to do that was to take a little trip to Grady Memorial ourselves.

"With Glenn and Maggie gone with Abraham's group, it isn't going to leave a lot of manpower here at the church. If most of us are going to leave for this, we need to make the church safer for those who are staying behind," Rick said.

It was decided we would start preparing in the morning. For the night, we were to try to sleep the best we could.

I knew there was a slim chance of that for Daryl. When he slipped back out of the church doors into what was left of the night, I followed him.

"Hey," I said, coming up beside him where he stood staring into the woods and resting a hand on his arm. "We're going to get them back."

Daryl didn't respond to that. Instead, he was quiet for a moment before asking me, "What happened here?"

"Oh, geez," I said with a sigh. "What happened here? Well, Bob got bit, but we didn't know about that at first. And then you and Carol went missing at the same time Bob did. But Bob came back. He got kidnapped by Gareth and whoever else was left from Terminus. They gave him back after they realized he was bit, but not before eating his leg. Then they came here, for revenge or whatever. But they're all dead now, and so is Bob."

Daryl nodded his head. "That his grave then?"

I nodded at where Daryl was pointing to the wooden cross we'd sunk into the ground at Bob's head.

"Why did Glenn and Maggie leave?"

Daryl was full of questions, but this one I couldn't answer. I shrugged. "I'm not sure. They just told Abraham they'd go with them, and Rick didn't try to stop them. I don't think they should have gone, but whatever."

"You should try to sleep," I told him. I hadn't taken my hand off of his arm yet, and he'd covered it with one of his own.

"I don't think I'm gonna be doing any of that tonight. I was thinkin' of keeping watch tonight. You should try, though."

"No, I'll stay out here with you." Daryl didn't oppose it, so I sat down with him on the front porch steps where Michonne and Gabriel were sitting earlier.

"I knew you went to go find Beth," I told Daryl after a while, laying my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I went without you. I didn't want to lose the car, the one I told you I saw the night Beth went missin'."

"It's okay," I told him. "You had to go."

There wasn't much of the night left. In the little patches where I could see the horizon through the trees, the sky was already turning gray at the edges.

I sat with Daryl and watched as gray turned to pink, then red and orange until the sun broke entirely from the horizon and it all faded to blue. There were still pretty things in the world, even if they were few and far between.

"I think you should stay here today," Daryl said once it truly was day.

"What? But y'all are going back to Grady Memorial, aren't you?"

"Yeah. We are. But I think you should stay. Someone's gotta keep little ass kicker safer." 'Little ass kicker' is what Daryl called Judith. "You'll be safer here, too."

"I want to help, though." I really did. From the way Noah talked, it didn't seem like it was going to be safe.

"You help all the time. And you're still hurt." Daryl said, pointing to the bite mark left over from the Terminus break. It had scabbed over, and it was hardly a mortal wound. I got the feeling that whatever was going on, it was important to Daryl that I not go. So I decided not to push it any farther.

"I'll stay here," I said. "But only this time. After this, wherever you go, I'll go."

Daryl kind of chuckled and threw an arm around my shoulders. "Alright. After this time."

To make the church a little more protected, we dismantled the pews and the organ and used the pieces to make a spike strip like we had at the prison. Those were great for trapping walkers and it made them easier to kill.

Gabriel was none too happy about that, but I thought it was kind of fun.

We also boarded up the windows, so no walkers or people would see us inside.

It was decided myself, Michonne, Carl, Judith, and Gabriel would stay behind. This made perfect sense considering Judith was an actual baby and Gabriel had the survival skill set of one. With Michonne, Carl, and myself there, surely nothing could go too wrong.

"Bring them back," I whispered to Daryl before they left. He only nodded.

While Michonne and Carl finished boarding up the windows, I was playing with Judith on the floor. Not far off, Gabriel was trying his damnedest to scrub some of the blood out of the floor of the church.

"That's not going to come out," I told him, pulling lightly on Judith's hands so that she was standing up. She was still too young to walk, but she would kind of stand if you helped her. Judith laughed a sweet little baby laugh when her shaky little legs gave out and I let her fall softly on her bottom.

"It's not supposed to be here," Gabriel muttered. He was talking more to himself than to me, I think. "It's not supposed to be here."

To say Gabriel wasn't all there would be an understatement.

I didn't want to leave Judith in the church with him, but there was something I wanted to do for Sasha. She was so torn up about Bob, and I knew it wouldn't be a cure-all by any means. So I took Judith outside with me.

While looking through the church, I had found plenty of fake plants and flowers. I cut vines of leaves and blooms off of all of them and took them outside, too.

With Judith sitting in my lap and playing with the fake plants, I started to weave them together around the wooden cross that marked Bob's grave.

I had just finished the longer piece of the cross when I heard Michonne's voice behind me.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"There's this holiday in Mexico called _dia de los muertos,_" I told her. "It's a day where people honor and celebrate those that they've lost by decorating their graves. I know Sasha will probably never see Bob's grave again, so I wanted to decorate it while we're still here."

Michonne didn't say anything, but she stood and watched as I worked for a few minutes.

"We're going to board the doors when you're done." Michonne told me. I nodded and handed Judith to her. The baby was falling asleep sitting up.

"Here, take her back inside. I'll be done in a few minutes."

Sometime while I was outside and Michonne and Carl were distracted with whatever they were doing, Father Gabriel slipped out of the church. But we didn't know that until after we had boarded up the front door. I knew he was going to mess up and cause something bad to happen eventually.

The bad thing that happened was that Gabriel had attracted a small hoard of walkers while he was out and about. That caused us a bit of trouble, having to deal with them. The spikes helped a lot, and so did the hole in the floor that Gabriel had made to get out of the church. We were able to trap them inside the church, and we all sat outside to wait for Rick and the others to return.

"She's like a little papoose," I said, placing a sleeping Judith in the makeshift baby carrier Carl wore on his back.

"I'm not sure the door will hold," Carl answered. We had boarded the door and used a belt around the handles, and we had backed away from the door so that the walkers couldn't see, hear, or smell us. Carl was right to be concerned, though. They were still throwing themselves against the door.

"Where did you go?" Michonne asked Gabriel.

"The school. I had to see. I had to know." His words were punctuated by a _bang_ as a piece of wood nailed to the church's front doors popped loose.

"Where will we go?" Carl asked. We didn't have anywhere to go. But this was also one of the few times we were lucky: We heard a car approaching, and lo and behold it was Abraham and the others who had left for D.C.

Abraham drove a fire truck right over the front porch of the church, effectively barricading the dead with the vehicle.

I forgot to even be mad about Maggie and Glenn leaving, because I was too excited for them to know that Beth was alive.

"You're back!" Michonne said to Glenn.

"Eugene lied," he answered. "He can't stop it. Washington isn't the end."

"No shit?" I said, before I could think about it. I had decided that Eugene wasn't a scientist when I was mad about them leaving, but I think a little part of me wanted to be wrong. I wanted a cure, too, no matter how improbable it was.

Glenn nodded at me before asking, "Where is everybody?"

Michonne glanced at Glenn before going to Maggie, a big smile on her face. I smiled, too. I was excited to have sweet Beth back.

"Beth's alive," Michonne told her. "She's in a hospital in Atlanta. Some people have her, but the others went to get her back."

"Do we know which one?" Maggie asked, her voice think with tears and her face crumpling.

"Grady Memorial," Michonne told her.

Maggie was so happy she laughed. It's been a while since any of us laughed.

"Let's blow this joint, go save your sister." Tara said.

We all loaded into Abraham's firetruck, sitting wherever we could find room.

"Um. Is he okay?" I asked, pointing to Eugene as I helped Carl get Judith settled.

"He's fine." Abraham said roughly. He said it in such a way that suggested there would be no further questions about Eugene. I figured it was a pretty sore subject for Abraham, a person who had dedicated his life to getting Eugene to Washington to find a cure.

It was a long, mostly quiet ride to Atlanta. On the one hand, there was the excitement of getting Beth back. But on the other, and heavy enough to put a damper on the excitement, was Abraham's brooding anger about Eugene.

When we finally did get there, we came out of the truck with weapons at the ready. But we didn't need them. Nobody was going to try to kill us. They had already gotten what they wanted.

Everyone in Grady Memorial wanted the same thing. They wanted the Dawn woman that Noah had told us about dead. And they got that, but it came at the expense of Beth's life.

Rick came out of the door at the front of the group, so that we didn't see Daryl at first. You could tell by Rick's face that something was wrong, and I knew before I saw her.

Sasha was behind Rick, and behind her was Tyreese and Carol. Tyreese was helping Carol walk.

And then came Daryl, Beth's little body in his arms, her blonde head lolling against his shoulder.

You could hear Maggie's heartbreaking in her yells as she fell to the ground, unable to handle seeing Beth this way so soon after seeing her father die.

Dawn shot Beth in the head, so there was no need to do anything further to keep her from turning. All we had left to do was bury her.

We took her back to the church. We cleared out the walkers. Glenn dug her grave. Gabriel read a Bible verse that Maggie said had been Beth's favorite. I don't think any of us had a dry eye, not even Abraham's group, who had never met Beth.

We buried Beth beside Bob, so neither would be alone.

Daryl did not attend. He secluded himself in the woods.

"Did you do that?" Maggie asked Sasha, pointing to Bob's flower-decorated grave.

Sasha shook her head.

"Livy did it," Michonne said. I nodded at Maggie.

"Will you do hers, too?"

"Of course." So I ended up decorating two graves that day. While I was twining flowers along the cross marking Beth's grave, I looked up to see Daryl standing just inside the tree line of the forest.

He had watched Beth's funeral, just in his own way. And now he was watching me decorate her grave.

* * *

_**A/N: Some scenes/dialogue taken from The Walking Dead season 5, episode 7 ('Crossed') and season 5, episode 8 ('Coda').**_


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

**_Chapter Twenty-Five_**

* * *

After we buried Beth, we decided to put some distance between us and Gabriel's church. Not even Gabriel had anything negative to say about that.

We didn't really have any direction at first. We just needed some new scenery, a place that wasn't covered in the blood of enemies and marked with the graves of our people.

Maggie hadn't stopped crying since she saw Beth's body, not even when she was asleep. I didn't even know that you could cry in your sleep until I saw her head resting on Glenn's shoulder, the tears still rolling down her cheeks.

Sasha didn't speak. She stuck close to Tyreese, but she didn't talk to him or anyone else.

And Abraham didn't talk either, because he was still pissed off at Eugene for lying. Eugene didn't talk because he was scared of Abraham.

Our group may have been reunited, but for all intents and purposes, we were still scattered.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked Daryl. We were sitting on a little outcropping of rocks, our feet dangling in front of us. I slid my hand over and clasped it in his. Daryl wasn't much for words himself, but he'd been quieter after Beth's death.

"Nah," he shook his head so that his too-long hair fell into his eyes. I reached over and pushed it away.

"You need to," I told him. "You can't keep something like this locked up."

"I was too late. She died. That's all there is to it."

"We both know there's more to it than that. But I won't make you talk about it if you don't want to. You're going to want to, though. Eventually."

Daryl blew his breath and smirked in response. I kicked a loose rock at my foot and watched it bounce its way down the short drop from our little ledge to the ground.

The rock's ricochets inspired a walker I hadn't noticed into motion. It was stuck in the ground, the only part sticking out—an arm—so decayed it looked like a twig from above. It pulled itself out of the ground, or tried to at least. Its lower half got stuck and tore away from its body with a sick sound.

"These damn things are everywhere," I said, letting Daryl pull me to my feet so we could move away before the walker saw us and started making noise that could attract others.

Daryl put his arm around my shoulders as we walked away. It was going to be dark very soon. The days had started to get just a little bit shorter. We had more or less set up a camp a few miles down the road from Gabriel's church.

It was hard getting the firetruck into the forest, but Rick had insisted on it because it was safer for Judith than being out in the open. The firetruck was one side of our camp; the other sides were constructed of noise traps for walkers and humans alike.

Tara had started a fire while we were gone. She was cooking the squirrels and doves Daryl had managed to get for us all earlier.

"Just in time for dinner," Tara said with a weak smile. I like people like Tara. She really tried to make sucky situations a little less sucky.

We ate in mostly silence. There just wasn't a lot to say. The only time anyone spoke was when Glenn talked to Noah.

"You're with us now," he told him, gesturing to the spick over the fire. Noah had been eyeing it, but he hadn't made a move towards it after eating his dove. "You can have seconds."

Noah almost smiled at him and reached for the fire.

I helped Carl stomp out the fire as soon as the sun set. Even with the numbers we had, we didn't need a beacon for the walkers, or people, to be drawn to.

"I'm taking watch with you," I told Daryl, dropping my backpack down on the ground beside him to use as a pillow.

"You should sleep," Daryl answered. He was already laying down, his arms behind his head, staring at the stars that showed through the gaps in in the trees.

"So should you."

I laid down beside him and stared up at the stars with him. But I didn't have as much willpower to fight my heavy eyelids, and I fell asleep pretty quickly. I didn't wake up until I felt Daryl's hand on my shoulder and his breath on my cheek.

"Livy, wake up. Rise and shine." I opened my eyes to the gray light of early dawn.

"You didn't wake me up," I accused, rubbing my shoulder where it had grown stiff and sore.

"I told you that you needed to sleep."

"Did _you _sleep?" I asked. Daryl shrugged.

"I'm okay." I rolled my eyes and scratched the skin around the bite wound from the stupid Terminus girl. It had scabbed over and grown itchy, and I was trying hard not to pick at it.

We kind of milled around for another day, mostly resting. We all needed it before moving forward. Plus we didn't know where _forward_ was yet.

I went hunting with Daryl and he didn't even complain about my footsteps even though I knew he thought they were still too loud despite my best efforts to roll my weight.

I watched quietly as Daryl shot a big, black crow out of a tree with his crossbow. He pulled the arrow out of what was left of the bird's head and tossed it into the game sack I was carrying for him.

Watching Daryl hunt was watching him completely in his element. His movements were always steady and sure. You could tell that in the woods, tracking animals, was where he felt most comfortable.

We took a break when the sun was directly overhead, taking a seat at the base of a huge tree. I took one of the apples we had in a different bag—we'd found a wild apple tree—and took a bite out of it before handing it over to Daryl.

It was the sweetest apple I'd ever tasted, so juicy that it ran down my chin when I bit into it.

Daryl took a bite and chewed, staring into the distance while I watched him. He turned to face me with a confused look on his face.

"What?" he asked.

I smiled and shook my head. "Nothin'."

I wanted to say it was nice having everyone together again, but for obvious reasons, I couldn't say that. Instead I just leaned my head against Daryl's shoulder.

"Y'know, I'm at least ten years older than you," Daryl muttered. I shrugged.

"I don't think age really counts in the apocalypse. You sick of me already or something?"

Daryl chuckled. "No, I ain't sick of ya. Not yet anyway."

I smiled and lifted my head to kiss him. I felt Daryl cup the back of my head as our lips met.

As rough around the edges as Daryl was, the way he kissed was entirely soft.

"Hey," I said when he pulled away from me. "It wasn't your fault. I know you don't feel that way, but you need to know that nobody blames you. Not even Maggie."

I had overheard Maggie thanking Daryl for going and trying after we buried Beth. I knew Maggie meant it; she was thankful that Daryl had figured it out and tried to save her. I knew she didn't place any blame on Daryl.

"The only person blaming you is yourself," I added.

Daryl looked down at the ground for a long moment. "We should get this stuff back and clean it. You can smash some of those apples for Judith."

So we headed back to camp and we sat with our backs resting against the firetruck. While Daryl plucked feathers and skinned, I peeled apples and cut slices into the only bowl-like thing we had: a fireman's hat. The apocalypse forces you to be innovative. I used the palm of my hand to squish the slices until they were soft enough for Judith to eat.

"Here," I said, passing the hat to Rick. He had Judith in his lap, and he fed her by scooping some of the apples into her mouth with his fingers.

"We're going to Virginia," Rick told us while we were all sitting together. "Tyreese, Sasha, and Carol went out to try to find some cars we can use."

"Why Virginia?" I asked, counting out the rest of our apples to see how many we had and how long we could make them last.

"That's where Noah is from. Said they had a camp there, with about twenty people. He and Beth were going to go there."

I nodded. Daryl didn't look up from that black bird, instead focusing on his fingers as he pulled feathers loose.

"I think she'd want us to go, to get him home." Rick added.

I smiled a little, because he was right. "I think you're right."

"We'll head to D.C. after that. Eugene may have lied, but he was thinking D.C. for a reason. It's worth a shot, at least."

So it was decided. Our next stop would be Virginia.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

**_Chapter Twenty-Six_**

* * *

It took us a few more days, but we found three reliable-looking cars and plenty of siphoned gas to get us to Virginia. We had lost the map Abraham had marked for us, but we easily found a new one in a little hick gas station.

"Do you think there will be anything there? In Noah's town?" I asked Daryl. I was helping him load up the cars with what supplies we had.

If we pushed forward and didn't have too much trouble from walkers, Rick thought we'd be able to reach Richmond in just a handful of days.

"We'll just have to wait and see," Daryl said with a shrug.

"Livy, Michonne, and myself are driving," Rick announced to us. We were all packing up the cars. "Everyone divide up however they want, but Michonne's car is going to have the most room."

We had found a Suburban and two other SUVs. With the amount of people we had, we needed a lot of room.

_What, why me? _I thought. _I don't even know how to get to Virginia_.

Whatever, I drove anyway. Daryl took the passenger seat of the car Rick pointed to for me to drive. Carol sat in the back with Carl, Judith laying between them. Rick had us drive in the middle of our three-car caravan, so that Carl and Judith would be in the safest position.

Rick led the way with Abraham, Tara, Rosita, Tyreese, Sasha, and Gabriel. Michonne took up the rear with Noah, Glenn, and Maggie. Rick got the Suburban and Michonne and I each took one of the SUVs.

"Alright, let's get this road trip started," I said, steering the car to take our place in the little procession we were forming.

No one was in a good mood following the deaths of our friends, so, understandably, no one was up for much conversation. Well, except for Judith. She was keeping up a steady stream of coos and giggles in the backseat. From the rearview mirror, I could see her looking up at Carl and Carol and smiling and kicking her legs.

Judith was such a good little baby, and smart, too. Somehow she had figured out when she needed to be quiet and when it was okay to make noise. When it was safe for her to be noisy, she really asserted her right to be, let me tell you.

I was grateful for Judith making some noise, because radio waves were no longer a thing and this car didn't happen to have any CDs in it. If it weren't for Judith, I'm sure our car would have been filled with the loudest of silences.

"Here, co-pilot," I said to Daryl, tossing him the walkie-talkie Rick had given me. "Keep up with this."

"What, you can't drive and talk at the same time?" Daryl teased and I stuck my tongue out at him. Brat, I was just trying to give him something to do so he didn't sit there and let his guilt about Beth eat him up.

"Behave, you two," Carol scolded from the backseat, a smirk on her lips.

It started raining a few minutes into the drive. Luckily it wasn't too heavy, because no one had thought to check the windshield wipers when looking for the cars, and I could see that Michonne's weren't working. We pushed forward. The roads were surprisingly empty of walkers, though we could see plenty of them milling around at the edge of the woods all around us.

Carl opened one of the cans of baby food we'd been able to find, spooning it into Judith's mouth while she sat in Carol's lap. I knew Daryl was looking all around, making sure there wasn't any surprise dangers. I just kept driving, following Rick through curves in the road and occasionally swerving to avoid bodies strewn about.

Towards sundown, Rick pulled of the road and into a bar ditch. We had finally run out of woods and were in a slightly more urban area.

"Let's see what that building's like," Rick said, pointing to a tin structure that looked like a storage shed. "If it's clear, let's not test our luck and just stay there for the night."

No one had a word of opposition, so Rick, Daryl, and Glenn approached the building to check it out.

"It's good, c'mon!" Glenn called to us after a few minutes.

There were no windows in the little shed, and only one door, so it was easy to barricade from the inside. It was a workshop, it seemed. Whoever owned it before was into making stained glass windows.

Tyreese tugged on the string hanging from a single light in the ceiling, but of course it didn't light up. We had some candles, and we lit those and placed them around to give us a little light while we set up a camp for the night.

"This will have to do for a crib, Judy," I told the baby, lining a cardboard box with a blanket. I put the box near Rick and Carl's bags.

"I think we're pretty safe in here," Rick said. "Let's all try to get some rest. Don't worry about keeping watch tonight."

We ate a quick dinner of canned fruits, each person getting their own can. I traded Daryl half of my can of peaches for half of his pineapple chunks.

After everyone had eaten, we blew out the candles. We had flashlights, too, but we were trying to conserve the battery on those.

"You good?" I whispered to Daryl. I could hear some others whispering, too: Rick whispering to Judith while he rocked her to sleep; Glenn whispering to Maggie, his voice too soft to make out any words; Michonne and Carol whispering about what supplies we'd need to get soon.

"I'm fine," Daryl answered, tugging on my arm. He was already laying down—he'd eaten his food lounging on his side.

Daryl was a private person, and he was more likely to touch me when there was some kind of privacy. It wasn't until the candles were all out that he reached for me.

I laid down beside Daryl and rested me head on his shoulder. I felt his arm wrap around me.

"Try to sleep, okay?" I whispered to him in the dark, my blind fingers somehow finding his cheek. I felt him nod underneath my fingertips.

My sleep was heavy and dreamless. I hadn't dreamt since the prison, but that made sense—I also hadn't felt comfortable or safe since the prison. No one had time for dreams, only what little rest we were able to get.

I woke up to darkness and I was confused for a second, trying to remember where I was, the only thing giving me a clue being the weight of Daryl's arm around my waist. I slipped myself out from under his arm as carefully as I could, so as not to wake him. He needed the rest.

Once my eyes adjusted, I saw the thin strip of sunlight coming in from under the shed door and I knew it had to be at least morning.

"You're up, too," I heard a whisper. I looked up to see Carol standing by the door, looking through the tiny crack between the door and the frame. "Come look."

I had to put my face up against the crack to be able to see through, and even then my vision was limited. What I saw was at least three walkers—not too much, but they'd easily draw attention if they weren't dealt with.

"We can get those," I whispered to Carol and she nodded.

"We need to wake the others first," Carol answered.

We went around shaking everyone awake, and then Tyreese and Daryl pushed the bench we'd used to barricade the door out of the way.

Rick had Carl and Judith move farther back into the shed away from the doorway. The plan was that three of us were going to go out—Carol and I, since we'd already gotten an idea of where the walkers were—and Sasha, because she volunteered herself.

Only when Rick opened the door, Sasha charged out ahead of me and Carol and bludgeoned all five—there were more than we thought—before we were even out of the shed. The butt of Sasha's gun was covered in blood, chunks of skin, and skull fragments.

"Let's go," was all she said. I looked over to Tyreese and he only shrugged.

We packed up camp and headed back to the cars.

For seventeen days, we drove and set up camps. We only drove during the day, so that delayed us a little bit. Plus there were days when we had to find gas, so that took some time, too. Each of those days were like carbon copies of each other: drive, find a camp, check supplies, replenish as needed, rest, and repeat.

Rick stopped us twenty miles out from where Noah said he'd come from.

"I don't want to take everyone in, in case it's not the way it was when Noah left. Noah, Tyreese, Michonne, Glenn, and myself are going to move forward. The rest of y'all stay here."

They took on of the cars, leaving us with the other two and most of the supplies. The plan was simple: If it's good, leave Noah and come back for the rest of the group. If it's bad, everyone comes back and we keep moving.

We found ourselves an empty house, because it was always easier taking care of Judith in doors. Sasha insisted on sitting on the roof with her gun, to keep watch.

In the living room, Carl played with Judith while everyone looked around the house, seeing what we could use. Finding almost no food, Daryl announced that he was going hunting.

"You stay here. Help keep everyone safe," Daryl told me, his eyes flicking towards Abraham. None of us felt easy about him, because he still seemed unstable after Eugene's confession. Eugene kept his distance from Abraham, playing poker with Tara in the kitchen while Abraham sulked on the front porch despite Rosita's attempts to lift his spirits.

We kind of milled around, just trying to fill time. I helped Carol pick some vegetables we found in a garden out back. Sasha stayed on the roof. Maggie joined Tara and Eugene's poker game. Gabriel sat reading a book he'd found somewhere.

"Carol," Rick's voice sounded from the walkie-talkie on her hip. "Everything good on your end?"

"We're fine," she answered. And we were. Everyone was safe at that house, plus we had the easy job of waiting. The others had the hard job.

It was harder than we expected. They returned with Tyreese's body, one of his arms gone from an attempt to save him from the aftermath of a walker bite. It was too late, though.

Sasha didn't cry. She dug her brother's grave just like she had dug Bob's, but she didn't cry. In fact, she didn't say a word at all. After Rick had put up a make-shift cross and Gabriel had eulogized him, she looked pointedly at me.

So I picked some wildflowers and the tallest grass I could find and I decorated Tyreese's grave just as I had Bob's and Beth's.

We ate the small deer Daryl was lucky enough to get while hunting and stayed the night at that house. In the morning, we went back on the road.

* * *

A/N: Okay, guys. Last chapter and this chapter cover the time not shown between 'Coda' and 'What Happened and What's Going On' as well as 'What Happened and What's Going On'. The next few chapters will cover the time between 'What Happened and What's Going On' and 'Them', because I think it's obvious that quite some time passes between the two! I am very excited to fill in this space :) Please let me know any opinions you have on the story so far!


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

**_Chapter Twenty-Seven_**

* * *

We had been on the road for two days when we ran into another group. Thankfully, they were friendly. We crossed paths with them and spent the night with them in a huge camp before parting ways. Initially I was pretty happy about this, because they had told us that they were about to visit family in New Mexico before the outbreak but were never able to.

There were only three people in this other group—a family. The mother's name was Hanna, the father was called Victor, and their daughter told us her name was Mallory.

I think Noah and Carl were happy to have someone around their age to hang out with. She was good for both of them, as both were still mourning Beth. In the forest clearing where we made our camp, the three of them sat playing card games.

The rest of us were just happy to see some friendly faces. Rick asked them all the questions he'd used back at the prison.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Enough, I reckon. We've been dealin' with them since this whole thing started," Victor had drawled in response.

"How many people?"

"None. So far we've been lucky enough not to have to."

Victor and Hanna were honest, and it was only them and Mallory. Their small group size and trusting nature is, I think, what made Rick decide to trust them. Plus they were inexperienced; they hadn't lived the way we had.

"Where were your relatives in New Mexico?" I asked Hanna. She was helping me lay string between trees. When we slept out in the open, we always made noise traps around the camp. Daryl was following us around, tying random things to the string.

"Tucumcari," Hanna answered. When she smiled, deep dimples revealed themselves in her cheeks.

"I'm from Truth or Consequences," I told her. I heard Daryl snot behind us. I turned to him and said, "It's a real place!"

"It was such a beautiful state," Hanna said, shaking her head. "It's too bad what they did to it."

At first I thought she just meant the general populace of walkers, but then I asked, "What do you mean?"

Hanna looked over at me sadly. "Oh, you don't know, do you? You didn't listen to the broadcasts when it first started?"

"I didn't stay in the cities for long," I told her, my stomach twisting in knots. What had they done to New Mexico?

"The government thought it would help stop this, but it didn't work. There were a lot of the dead on the west coast and in the southwest in general. They thought, maybe, they could at least put a big enough dent in it to make some headway towards stopping it," Hanna continued. She looked sad and remorseful as she spoke.

"But what did they _do_?" I persisted. Daryl was beside me suddenly and I could feel his hand on the small of my back.

"There was no warning. Nobody even had a chance to evacuate before it happened. They set off the atomic bombs left at the Trinity Site," Hanna said. "Just like Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Everything was destroyed."

I felt my heart go cold and my knees buckle and I fell back a little, grabbing onto Daryl's arm. He caught me, his arm around my waist.

"I'm okay," I said as I righted myself. "I'm okay."

"I'm sorry, Livy," Hanna apologized. "I thought you'd know by now."

"I didn't stay in the cities long," I said again. "I didn't think to listen to the news."

I know I've said that I preferred to think of my parents and siblings as dead, and that was true, but deep down I was still holding out some wild hope that they were out there somewhere.

I could feel Daryl's eyes on me. When I turned to him, the blue of his eyes were tinged with concern.

"I'm okay," I said again. Honestly I felt like I was in a haze. "Let's get this finished."

Numbly, I kept hanging string with Hanna and when we were done I helped Daryl tie some more random bits to it. Once we finished, Daryl pulled the string open wide enough for me to slip through to re-enter camp.

Inside camp, things were somber. Maggie was still mourning. Sasha still didn't talk. Abraham had started to perk up, though, as he helped Victor construct a campfire for us.

"Do you, uh, want to talk about it?" Daryl asked me. His hand was still on the small of my back. I tried to smile at him. Here Daryl was, the strong and silent one of our group, asking if I wanted to talk about what Hanna had just told me.

"Not right now. Thank you." I told him. Daryl nodded quietly in response.

When night fell, I volunteered myself for first watch. I knew I wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. Unsurprisingly, Daryl stayed up with me.

I sat leaning against an old car that happened to be where we chose to make our camp. I reckon that car had been there before the apocalypse—it was overgrown with grass and vines like the forest was trying to swallow it.

Daryl sat beside me and both of us stared at the still-dying embers left over from the fire. Daryl didn't say a word, waiting for me to speak, but he had his arm around me and I'd laid my head on his shoulder.

I couldn't think of words to say. There really wasn't anything _to_ say. My family was dead. I knew that now.

I didn't even notice I'd started crying until I felt Daryl's thumb on my cheeks, wiping tears away.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I still cry." I had meant it to be a joke, a little homage to Beth, but it just made me cry harder.

It took me several minutes and more than a few deep breaths before I could talk.

"I had a brother," I told Daryl, my voice shaking. "Like you had a brother. He was only ten. I had a sister, too. She wasn't even five yet. My parents had me when they were in high school, so they waited a while before having more kids. And now they're all dead."

I laughed even though it wasn't funny. The words just sounded weird to me. They had been dead for a long time in reality, but to me it was a new death.

"I mean, like really dead. Because before I could pretend that they were or they weren't because I didn't know. But now I do. I know they're dead and I can't pretend anymore."

I said all of this in a whisper so as not to wake up everyone else. I felt Daryl shift and pull me so that I was sitting in his lap, curled against his chest, with his arms around me. I slipped my arms around Daryl's waist and laid my head on his chest. Then I really cried, awful, messy tears.

I could feel Daryl's hands smoothing my braided hair. A few times I felt him press his lips to the top of my head. He let me cry until I fell asleep. I know I must have, because when I woke up, it was almost light and my head was in Daryl's lap, his hand still in my hair. He had moved me, but slept sitting up so I wouldn't wake up.

We parted with Hanna, Victor, and Mallory later that morning. They were heading west for a bit and then moving north while we were going east, otherwise I think they may have chosen to stay with us.

It had been nice being with other people for a little while, even if they were the bearers of bad news.

I wasn't feeling too great emotionally for the next few days. I was still having an easier time than Maggie and Sasha, though. I'd resigned myself to the fact that I'd more than likely never see my family again a long time ago.

Daryl still didn't talk about Beth. I don't know why, but I kind of expected him to after my cry session. He kept whatever he was feeling and thinking to himself, though.

We spent about three days in a valley. It was a great stopping place—you didn't even know it was there until you were right on it, and it was deep in the woods. We were officially travelling on foot. With how large our group was, it was easier than constantly looking for multiple vehicles and siphoning gas. Plus the forest gave us better coverage.

I liked the little valley. I kind of miss it, actually. It was near a lake, just a short hike away, so we weren't wanting for water. The weather at night was colder but still nice enough to sleep outside. It was a nice place to rest.

Just like most times since we'd known each other, I went hunting with Daryl. Only this time our hunting consisted of trying to catch fish with our hands since we didn't have any poles.

The lake was amazingly clear, and really not that deep, so it was easy for us to see that there weren't any walkers in it.

"I've been fishing before, but not like this," I told Daryl, pushing up the sleeves on my shirt. Daryl didn't have to worry about that since he usually ripped the sleeves off the shirts he found to wear.

"Well, then you're gonna learn a few things today, darlin'," Daryl had replied. I felt myself blush at the pet name.

Daryl made me take my shoes off and roll up my pants so we could stand nearly knee-deep in the water.

"Don't move much. We don't need no splashin' to scare the fish away."

I stood still and watched Daryl as a curious little fish came to investigate us. Daryl waited until it was really close to us, and then he sunk his arm in the water lightning fast. When he pulled it back out, the fish was in his hand.

I laughed as it flopped around in Daryl's hands, spraying both of us with water. Daryl threw the fish in his game bag, which he had placed in the water. He tied it so the fish couldn't swim back out.

I was _not_ a good fisherman, not with my hands at least. I got drenched in water, but I only managed to catch one fish, which was nothing compared to Daryl's fourteen he had caught.

The fishing made my braid start to fall out, so I undid it all and rinsed it in the lake water. I was going to re-braid it before it dried, but Daryl stopped me.

"No, don't," he said, and then he looked embarrassed like he hadn't meant to speak. "I like your curly hair."

I smiled and let my hair dry loose. I didn't re-braid it until we went to sleep that night.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight_**

* * *

It would seem that the word home would have no meaning during the end of the world. Let me tell you, no matter what the setting, I was always home when I was with my group.

Home was no longer Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. That place didn't even exist anymore. Home wasn't even the prison or Gabriel's church or any of our campsites we had on the road.

Home was Judith's gummy smile. It was Michonne using handfuls of grass to clean her sword. It was Glenn kissing Maggie's forehead, Tara trying to draw Eugene out of his shell, Bob's jacket on Sasha's shoulders. Home was waking up under the weight of Daryl's arm.

We were never homeless, not even under the starry night sky with hardly anything to our names.

"How do you spell your name?" I asked Daryl one day while we were taking a rest from walking. I had picked up a stick, and I'd drawn my own name in the dirt.

"It ain't hard to spell," Daryl said with a chuckle.

"_Yeah_," I said, "but there are different ways to spell it. I want to spell it the right way."

I watched Daryl roll his eyes even though he looked a little amused. He was still having a hard time allowing himself to feel anything other than guilty over Beth.

"D-a-r-y-l," he spelled for me, and I wrote it in the dirt beside my own.

After meeting Victor's family and leaving the valley, we started hitting hard times. Supplies had turned scarce. Even the game was scarce—Daryl was having a hard time catching anything.

We were optimistic, though. Especially Michonne. I wasn't sure if that was because she truly felt that way or for Rick's benefit.

"We're gonna find a place for you, baby girl," she told Judith one day as we were walking. We took turns carrying Judith. Tyreese's backpack had been the only one big enough to fit the baby in, but we had buried him with it. I think everyone was too heartbroken to think of removing Tyreese's gear.

"A place for you to learn to walk and talk."

Michonne's talk made me smile, but I didn't believe any of it. I was more convinced that we _wouldn't _find anywhere, rather living the rest of our days on the road. Which didn't bother me too much. We were doing okay enough without a permanent shelter.

Walking made for slow travel. We walked from sunup to sundown for three days and then rested for one or two. I knew Rick wanted to progress faster, but we couldn't get burned out, either.

A week and a half into our walking, Abraham spoke. We were in the woods, as we usually were, when a lone walker came towards us. Glenn was closest, and he'd gotten his knife out to handle it.

"No," Abraham had said, putting his hand on Glenn's arm to stop him. "Let Eugene do it."

Eugene had never killed a walker. They terrified him. It was painfully obvious that Eugene truly only made it this far in because of Abraham and Rosita.

Rick didn't disagree with Abraham. We all knew Eugene was a drain in our group. He needed to learn.

I had Judith at the time, and I took a step closer to Daryl just in case.

"Baptism by fire," Abraham said to no one in particular. We all took a few steps back, giving Eugene room and an opportunity to kill the walker.

He couldn't do it, though. He backed away from the walker until he tripped over a tree root, not even bothering to take out the knife we'd given him. Eugene fell on his ass begging someone to get the walker. Tara did it in before it could get to Eugene.

Abraham let out a long string of cusswords. Even Gabriel had killed a walker before, but Eugene just couldn't.

Eugene couldn't kill walkers, but he could strike up a conversation with any of us. It wasn't that he was charming—he just knew a lot of information and had a lot of talking points.

"Olivia," he would say. For some reason he liked to use my full name even though everyone else called me Livy. He liked to ask me questions about New Mexico. "What was it that Robert Oppenheimer said when he detonated the first atomic bomb?"

I hadn't told anyone other than Daryl about my family. Daryl was the only one around when Hanna had told me about what happened in the Southwest. So I did not begrudge Eugene for his questions, even if Daryl always looked over at me when Eugene asked one of them.

"Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds," I told him, kicking a walker that was nothing more than a head away from me. "Pretty fitting for the end times, huh?"

"Do you really think aliens ever visited Roswell?" Eugene asked another time.

"If they did, they didn't do a very great job of helping humankind progress. Roswell was still pretty podunk."

"What do you think about Billy the Kid?" I think Eugene just likes history in general, and here I was, a primary source on New Mexico history.

"That Pat Garret was a sissy. He only killed the Kid because he was unarmed and surprised."

Sasha still wasn't one much for words. She was also the first to action when a walker would approach. We hardly had to do anything because Sasha tried to take them all on single-handedly. None of us stopped her, even though it was clear she was intentionally taking risks. I couldn't blame her for feeling like she didn't have much left to lose.

Still, I think the conversations we had on the road are some of my favorites. There was one night we spent in an old storage shelter that was mostly furniture—we all got a couch or bed that night, it was great—when things were surprisingly lighthearted and fun.

"We should tell people that Glenn is part of the Yakuza, see if it puts some fear in their hearts," I said. Glenn laughed and threw a rock at me from the other side of the campfire. We felt safe enough to light one, with a solid shelter so close.

"That's for the Japanese, jerk. I'm Korean."

"Well, yeah, but nobody's gonna know that!"

Glenn shot back with, "We better find somewhere to stay soon or Livy is gonna be as dark as Sasha."

I threw Glenn's rock back at him. Despite my freckles, I also tanned really easily. "Rude. It's not my fault I was made to tan. With an Italian grandma on one side and a Navajo grandpa on the other, what can you expect?"

"You're Native American?"

"Only a fourth. But that was enough to get my name written down in some tribe scrolls somewhere. I used to have a little ID card that said I was naturally a part of the Navajo Nation."

Asking Daryl about what happened at Grady Memorial was useless, though. Each time I asked him, I got the same response:

"It don't matter any now."

So eventually I got fed up with his answer and asked Carol. If Daryl wouldn't tell me, I knew she would.

I asked her straight out while we were on watch together.

"Beth saved all of us," Carol said. She was staring straight ahead. She did not sound sad and she did not cry. It was like she was just speaking facts. "The leader of their group—Dawn—she was bad just from what I had seen. Beth had seen much more, so I'm sure she knew better than I did. I don't doubt that our giving Dawn Noah would have stopped her from trying to kill us, or have us killed by her people. I think Beth knew that. I think she knew the only way we would get out is if Dawn died."

Carol did take a deep breath and released it as a sigh. Maybe it bothered her more than she liked to let on.

"Beth tried. She stabbed her with a pair of scissors she had hidden in her cast. Dawn shot Beth in the head, and then Daryl shot Dawn almost before Beth hit the ground."

No wonder Daryl was having such a hard time with it.

The next time we were alone—because Daryl wasn't much one for showing affection in front of others—I forced him into a very long hug.

"What're you doin'?" He grumbled, having just laid a trap not far from our new temporary camp.

"Shh, just accept it," I said, pressing myself closer to him. I felt him pat my back after a moment.

"Are you done now?" Daryl asked.

"Nope, I'm not done until you hug me back." It took a few more seconds but he did wrap his arms around me and I felt him rest his chin on top of my head. Still, I didn't let go until he did.

When he did, I took his face between my hands and kissed him. Then I told him, "Carol told me what happened at Grady Memorial."

Daryl didn't say anything. He just looked down at the ground.

"Hey," I said, "now I don't know for sure, because I wasn't there. But it sounds like Beth knew what she was doing. I don't think she'd want you to be a sad-sack, not after she gave up her life so all of y'all could get out of there. Remember? She didn't cry anymore, so we shouldn't either. She wouldn't want us to be sad. She'd want us to make it count."

Daryl kind of smirked, in a sad way. "You reckon, darlin'?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling now. "I do reckon. Now come on, we got work to do. And I know you're gonna be sad for a little while longer, but we still have to do things. For her, because she can't anymore."

And then Daryl took my hand because even though I'd been out in the forest with him plenty of times by that point and I was decent—though nowhere near great—at hunting, he picked better spots for traps and he knew it.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! So, I never want to be the kind of author that is like 'If I don't get X amount of comments, then I won't update!' and that isn't what this note is for. That being said, I have noticed this story doesn't get nearly as much feedback as my others do, and that's fine, but I just wanted to make sure y'all are enjoying the story. This is one that is very hard to write for since I am keeping it more or less in line and canon with the show. Anyway, I'm done rambling here! I hope you enjoy the chapter and I will be returning to the show's plot line in the next few chapters.


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

**_Chapter Twenty-Nine_**

* * *

I know the middle of the apocalypse doesn't seem like a good backdrop for romance, and honestly it's not. Due to the crazy-ass events of our lives as of late, Daryl and I were more thrown together than anything.

I mean, while we were at the prison, it took me long enough just to get Daryl to admit we were friends. But at the prison, we were more or less safe. We actually had time to think and to explore feelings. It wasn't wake up, try to find food, kill walkers, keep yourself and your friends safe, walk, walk, walk, make a camp for the night.

Add to that the fact that Daryl was a deeply private person, and it's easy for me to see how our relationship on the road was stolen kisses when we were away from the group. We didn't have time to take it further than "Hey, we both like each other, let's try not to die so that when we have time, we can explore this further".

I mean, we barely had time to sit down and rest without the fear of dying, let alone time to question what we were doing.

So for the time being, our relationship was constricted to walking beside each other and secret moments.

Any sort of affection shown in front of someone else made Daryl adorably awkward. For example, the time I got a twig stuck in the curls of my hair.

"D'you there's a stick in your hair?" Daryl asked, pointing towards the back of my head. I felt around but failed to find it.

"Well, get it out then," I told him. We were with Michonne and Noah, taking a break while searching for supplies.

Daryl actually _blushed_ before mumbling for me to sit in front of him. I did, and moments later I felt him working the stick out of the trap of curls. I know Michonne and Noah didn't think twice about it, but it made me snicker to know it embarrassed Daryl.

"Quit your gigglin'," he muttered at me while he worked the stick free.

I didn't understand how he could be so shy, I mean we _did_ sleep next to each other every night and more often than not I woke up with one of Daryl's arms thrown over me. Either way, I thought it was really funny. It brought some joy into our otherwise rather crappy days at the time.

We were dangerously low on food and water. We just weren't having any luck finding either, and it was starting to get to us as a group.

"Adults should eat first, if we're looking at how we will have the best chance of survivin'," Abraham said when it became clear we were most likely going to be running low for a while.

Boy, I tell you, if looks could kill, Abraham would be dead several times over from the glares he earned from Rick, Michonne, Carol, and even Rosita. I made sure he was watching when I gave one of my crackers to Judith. She didn't have teeth yet, but she could gum at it until it was soft enough to eat.

"If you don't _feed_ the baby, she cries, and if she _cries,_ she attracts walkers. See the predicament there?" Carol asked him in a scathing tone.

As we got more desperate for food, Rick suggested we split up on runs and go solo to search for supplies, so as to increase our search radius. It was a good idea, though it didn't work too well.

Sasha, Maggie, Daryl, and I were out searching the day that things changed.

I was making my way back to camp when I ran into Daryl. His hands were covered in dirt, obviously from the hole in the ground beside him. I came upon him just in time to watch him drop an earthworm in his mouth.

"Did you really just do that?" I asked, giggling despite myself.

"Protein's protein, darlin'," he answered. He motioned with his head for me to sit down, so I did. Daryl stuck his hands back into the earth and dug until he found another worm.

He held his hand out to me, the worm writhing in his palm. I sighed and plucked it from his hand, dropping it in my mouth and closing my eyes before chewing. I could feel Daryl's smirk, I didn't even need to see it.

"Oh, man," I said. "That was like a Gusher candy, but a lot less fun."

After our little meal of warms, we found Maggie. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She didn't have to say it, but I think we both knew she had been crying over Beth and her daddy again.

We found Sasha in a dried-out creek bed, kicking at the dirt in frustration and in the hopes there might still be some water in the soil. There wasn't. There was a collective sigh as we made our way back to the road and back to our group.

"Oh, shit," Maggie said when we saw all of our friends sitting in the road. "It's been a day and a half. They didn't find any either."

"How do you know?" Sasha asked. It was one of the first times she'd spoken since Tyrese.

"I know," Maggie answered, dejectedly. "How much longer we got?"

"Sixty miles," Sasha was talking distance. Maggie was not.

The one good stroke of luck we had had as of late was finding cars here and there. The only problem with that was that there weren't enough around so siphon gas. We had to use one until the gas was out, and then it was back to walking.

Which is, unfortunately, what happened to our van just a few hours later.

"We're out," Abraham grumbled. He insisted on driving. "Just like the other ones."

"So we walk," Rick answered. And out we went.

Daryl led the way, since Rick was carrying Judith in his arms. I walked beside Carol.

"We're not at our strongest," we overheard Rick say. Carol gave me a look as if to say 'no shit', and I had to hold back my laugh. "We'll get 'em when it's best. Hi ground, something like that. They're not going anywhere."

He was talking about the walkers that were trailing us. There wasn't a lot of them, and they were pretty well decayed, so they weren't moving quick by any means. But then again, neither were we.

Rick dropped his voice, but I kept eavesdropping.

"It's been three weeks since Atlanta. I know you lost something back there." So it was obvious to everyone that Daryl still wasn't doing well after Beth's death.

"She's hungry," Daryl answered, looking to Judith and ignoring what Rick had just said. I frowned at Daryl's back. He was so hard on himself.

"I'm gonna head out," Daryl said a few moments later. "See what I can find."

He handed his gun back to Rick, opting to take only his crossbow.

I took a step away from the group, to follow him, but Carol's hand on my arm stopped me.

"Let me try," she whispered quickly to me. I furrowed my brow at her, but she turned to Daryl quickly.

"I'll go with you."

"Hey, I got it," Daryl said, walking off instead of waiting for her. Carol glanced at me and I shrugged.

"You gonna stop me?" Carol asked, following anyway. I moved up to walk beside Rick, taking the gun Daryl had given him.

"Carol's gonna try to talk to him," I told Rick. "Maybe she can say something we can't. I think they lost Beth in a different way than we did, than even Maggie did."

Rick gave me a grimace and nodded his head. We were moving slowly, so slowly. We were all weak. As long as we kept moving forward, though, we would be okay.

But Sasha _really_ wanted to kill them. It was important to her, for some reason. She came jogging up from the back of the group to tell Rick we should get rid of them.

"Might as well do it now," she said. "What if we don't find higher ground?"

She was so persistent that Rick eventually gave in. A formation was made: Rick, Michonne, and Glenn on one side of the road, Abraham, Maggie, and Sasha on the other. The plan was simple, take the walkers out as they came down the road.

The rest of us moved back out of the way to protect Judith, Eugene, and Gabriel.

No one had the energy to actually kill the walkers, though. We had to make due with pushing them off the road and into a ditch below.

Or at least that's how the plan started. Sasha kind of broke away from that and started to actually kill them instead of pushing them away like Rick and Glenn had decided they should do.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled to myself. I was standing near the front of the rest of the group along with Rosita and Tara. We all exchanged horrified looks as we watched the rest of the group kill the walkers. One walker came extremely close to biting Rick; the only reason it didn't is because Daryl popped out of the forest just in time to pull it away.

Somehow, miraculously, they got it done. But it left them even more spent than they were before. When they were all down, we just continued what we'd been doing for endless days by that point: walking.

I expected more of the same. Hot sun, empty road. But a few miles down we came to a little cluster of cars.

"Dad, look," Carl said, pointing, the first of us to notice the change.

"I'm gonna head into the woods, circle back," Daryl said. I moved to follow automatically.

Carol said, "May I come with?"

But Daryl rebuked both of us.

"No," he said sharply. "Just me."

I stuck my tongue out at his back, but I stayed with the group and moved towards the cars instead.

The cars were empty, so we started rooting through them in the hopes of finding something, anything. Maggie found a walker in the trunk of one, but that and a bottle of alcohol were the end of our bounty.

I saw that walker. In the trunk, I mean. It used to be a lady, and it had it's wrists and ankles tied and a gag in it's mouth. It gave me an uneasy feeling.

But I didn't have time to ponder what happened to it. I just made a note of it in my head, to tell Daryl later. We all sat down to wait for Daryl.

Rick sat back-to-back with Carl, so that Carl could lean against him and rest for a moment. Abraham was drinking the booze that was found in one of the cars.

Daryl came out of the forest. Rick looked up at him hopefully, but Daryl just shook his head and came to sit beside me.

I tried to smile at him and gave his arm a squeeze. It was time to rest.

But that was interrupted by a snarl behind us. Out of the tree line, not far from where Daryl had come from, came a pack of dogs. Their fur was soaked in blood. At one point, they were probably pets to someone—they were all different breeds—but now they were feral.

Sasha shot them all dead before any of us could even react. Rick started breaking sticks for firewood.

My stomach kind of churned at the thought of eating a dog, but I heard Daryl's voice in my head: _Protein's protein._

It didn't take Daryl long to skin the dogs and cut them into chunks for us to roast over Rick's fire.

None of us said a word. None of us felt good about what we'd just done.

Daryl didn't even make any jokes about Glenn being Asian and eating a dog. I wasn't sure if I should be proud he didn't make any comments or worried that our moral was too low for jokes.

I told myself it was beef as we ate. None of us could afford to be picky. It was the first food we'd seen in days. I did catch Noah staring at one of the collars from the dogs, looking horrified. Poor kid. He'd gone from a civilization to Grady Memorial, but he always had shelter and food. Noah was kind of like Gabriel, not used to doing questionable things to survive, but he took it better than Gabriel did.

Gabriel took his clerical collar out of his shirt and tossed it in the fire. I nudged Daryl and made him look. He looked back and me and shrugged.

That was our turning point, those dogs. I still feel bad for eating them. But they strengthened us enough to keep going. If it weren't for them, I honestly believe we would have died.

* * *

**A/N: **Some scenes/dialogue taken from The Walking Dead season 5, episode 10: "Them". No copyright infringement intended.


	31. Chapter Thirty

**_Chapter Thirty_**

* * *

The next day, we were back to walking. The strength we got from the dogs didn't last long. We were all dehydrated. Our water was so low that we were all restricted to a sip every few hours.

That sure didn't stop Abraham from drinking that bottle of booze, though.

Glenn tried to hand Daryl the water bottle we'd all been sharing, but Daryl refused.

"No, I'm alright."

"Daryl," Glenn said again, more forcefully.

"Don't," Daryl snapped. I rolled my eyes and took the bottle from Glenn and pressed it into Daryl's hand.

"Take a damn drink," I snapped at him. He gave me a look before unscrewing the lid and taking a sip. Daryl handed the bottle to me; I took a drink and gave it back to Glenn.

"We can make it together," Glenn told Daryl. "But we can _only _make it together."

"Tell them I went lookin' for water," Daryl told me and Abraham. I didn't even bother trying to follow him into the woods.

Abraham tipped his booze bottle towards me, but I shook my head.

"Thanks, though."

We didn't make it far before stopping. Sitting in the middle of the road, with no one else around, were bottles and jugs of water. Rick approached it and pulled a piece of paper out from underneath one of the jugs.

"From a friend," he read out loud to us. All of us stiffened and looked around at each other. No one had to say it, but there was collective air of _what the hell._

"Let's wait for Daryl," Rick said. All of us were on guard now, hyper aware of our surroundings. Someone was following us, that much was obvious.

Rick handed the note to Daryl wordlessly. After reading it quickly, he took his crossbow off his back and got it ready.

"What else are we gonna do?" Tara asked, looking down at the water.

"Not this," Rick answered. "We don't know who left it."

"If that's a trap, we already happen to be in it," Eugene pointed out. "But I, for one, would like to think I is indeed from a friend."

Yeah, wouldn't we all, Eugene. But that was damned foolish wishful thinking. We couldn't chance it.

"What if it isn't?" Carol asked. "They put something in it?"

In the first act of bravery I think any of us had ever seen Eugene do, he stepped forward and grabbed one of the bottles off the ground. I watched him, wide-eyed.

"Eugene!" Rosita protested at the same time Tara said, "What are you doing, dude?"

"Quality assurance," Eugene answered, unscrewing the lid on the bottle.

Abraham slapped the bottle out of Eugene's hand just as he raised it to his lips. Everyone was surprised by Abraham's sudden desire to stop Eugene from being uncharacteristically stupid.

"We _can't_," Rick re-affirmed. His words were punctuated by a rumble of thunder.

We couldn't, and we didn't need to, because the heavy, bruised clouds we'd been hoping would drop some rain finally opened up.

Michonne and Carol started laughing happily, tipping their heads skyward. Tara and Rosita laid down in the road, reveling in the cool rain. I smiled and gave Daryl's shoulder a little push, but he didn't even crack a grin.

He, Maggie, and Sasha were like stoic pillars in our happiness over the rain.

"Everybody, get the bags. Anything you can find." Rick instructed. We set out all the containers we had to catch the rain water. We would need it.

The thunder and rain scared Judith, making her cry. Carl took Rick's Sheriff hat off his head and held it over her as a makeshift umbrella.

Rick looked up to the sky and we followed suit. The clouds were heavy, angry, black—and they were moving in a way I'd never seen before.

"Let's keep moving," Rick said. I didn't understand what the danger was at first. It was a thunderstorm, sure, but none of the lightning was hitting close. I had never seen a tornado before. I didn't see the warning in the movement of the clouds.

"There's a barn!" Daryl yelled to Rick over the noise of the storm.

Thankfully, there was only one walker in that barn and it was easy enough to make it ours. We made a small fire on the dirt floor and settled in for the night. The only problem with that was that there were holes in the roof of the barn and everything was already pretty damp, so it was hard to keep the fire going.

Daryl tried to add a stick to the fire, but it was too wet to burn. In the firelight, I noticed an angry red circle on his hand. When he set it back down, I touched the wound gently, raising an eyebrow at him. He looked away, not answering me.

Carl and Judith were asleep by the fire. I was sitting around it with Michonne, Carol, Rick, Glenn, and Daryl.

"He's gonna be okay," Carol told Rick, nodding her head at Carl. "He bounces back more than any of us do."

"I used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now. In this," Rick told us. "But I think I got it wrong. Growing up is getting used to the world. This is easier for them."

"This isn't the world," Michonne disagreed. "This isn't it."

Glenn looked over at Maggie. She was laying down away from everyone else.

"It might be," Glenn told Michonne. "It might."

"That's giving up," Michonne countered.

"It's reality," Glenn shot back.

"Until we see otherwise, this is what we have to live with," Rick said. I have to admit, I agreed more with Rick and Glenn than I did Michonne.

"When I was a kid…I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn't answer. He said that was grown-up stuff, so…so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him. But he got real quiet. He said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. Every day he woke up and told himself, 'Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war'. And then after a few years of pretending he was dead, he made it out alive."

I wasn't sure what inspired Rick to tell us that story, but he continued.

"That's the trick of it, I think. We do what we need to do, and then we get to live. But no matter what we find in D.C., I know we'll be okay. Because this is how _we_ survive. We tell ourselves that _we_ are the walking dead."

I had never thought about it that way, but in a way, Rick was right. We were all infected. We were all more or less dead people. It wasn't _if _we die, it was _when_ we die. We were the walking dead, in a way.

Daryl looked over at me, and then at Rick.

"We ain't them," he said. He looked away from Rick and picked up a stick to try to add to the fire.

"We're not them," Rick said, moving so that he was in Daryl's line of sight.

"Hey," he said, to get Daryl's attention. "We're not."

Daryl tossed his sticks into the fire and stood up. "We ain't them."

He picked up his crossbow and moved to the front of the barn. He went to pace by the door. I watched him and sighed, not sure if I should get up to talk to him or not. I didn't have to make that decision, though.

Daryl moved to the gap in the barn doors. We had tied them with chain, but the winds from the storm were making the doors bang despite it. He peeked through the gap before grabbing the chain, pulling it tighter, and throwing his back against the door to brace it.

The doors bowed inward from the weight of the walkers on the other side. There was no way Daryl could hold them by himself. I got up and rushed to the doors, arriving the same time as Maggie did. We placed ourselves on either side of Daryl, adding our weight.

It still wasn't enough. But soon everyone was at the door, all of us pushing against it and trying to hold our ground in the slick mud.

We weren't just pushing against walkers, though. It was wind, too, the strongest wind I had ever experienced. And that is saying something when you come from the Southwest.

I started to slide and Daryl placed an arm over me to keep me upright and pushing against the door. We couldn't lose anyone's strength in this, or the doors would give and we'd all be dead.

We held it for what felt like hours, but I can't tell you how long we were actually there. Eventually the weight was gone, just all of a sudden, like it was never there. And the wind stopped, too. The sudden calm surprised all of us.

"What was that?" I asked Daryl. He looked at me with a confused expression. "I meant the storm. I know what walkers are."

"That was a tornado," Daryl said, still confused.

"I've never seen one before," I told him. He shook his head and smirked.

"Damn New Mexicans."

Surprisingly, we got some sleep that night. We were exhausted, our arms and legs shaking.

I felt Daryl get up at some point in the night, but I was too tired to argue when he told me to go back to sleep. He laid back down beside me early in the morning, kissing my forehead before settling down to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Some scenes/dialogue taken from The Walking Dead season 5, episode 10: "Them". No copyright infringement intended.


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

**_Chapter Thirty-One_**

* * *

"Do you think he's telling the truth?" I asked Daryl as we walked through the forest. After the tornado, Maggie and Sasha had gone outside the barn, where they met a man named Aaron. According to Aaron, he has a large camp nearby with lots of people, and he'd like us to join him.

I wasn't sure he'd still feel that way, considering Rick knocked him out with a solid punch to the head.

"Doesn't seem like he has any reason to lie so far."

Rick sent some of us out to sweep the perimeter of the barn. Rosita, Abraham, Glenn, and Maggie headed out to find Aaron's car, which he claimed to have parked a few miles away.

So far we hadn't seen anyone who was alive, just a lot of walkers that had been destroyed by the storm.

I kept stopping to look at things: the impossible angle of a tree after being toppled by the storm; a walker that was inexplicably cut perfectly in half. I heard Daryl chuckle when I paused to examine a rock that had become lodged in a tree trunk.

"Havin' fun?"

"It's just interesting. I mean, I've never seen anything like this before," I told him with a shrug.

"I think it's clear out here. If someone else was out here, one of ours would've found him by now." Daryl stepped over a log, turning back in the direction of the barn.

"So you think he's telling the truth?" I said, half-jogging to catch back up to Daryl. I smiled up at him, hoping he would say that he believed Aaron. I very much wanted it to be true—I was getting tired of life on the road.

"I think he might be, yeah."

I threw myself at him, hugging him around his waist. It almost knocked him off balance, and he grunted in surprise.

"What was _that_ for?" he grumbled.

"I'm just really excited. I know Rick is being Mr. Tough Guy, knocking Aaron out, tying him up, but I want it to be true. I want his camp to be real."

"My sayin' he might not be a liar don't make it true."

I scoffed at him. "You're usually right about people. You read them real well, Daryl. If you say Aaron isn't lying, I'd put my money on you."

We got back to the barn before anyone else. Daryl told Rick that it was clear in the area we had been. I smiled down at Aaron and he smiled back. I wished I could tell him that Rick didn't mean to be cruel, he was just being careful. He had Judith and Carl to think about.

I sat with Daryl towards the back of the barn while we waited for everyone to return. Glenn's group was the last to arrive, but they had the farthest to go. They came back with a treasure trove's worth of food.

"He wasn't lying about the RV," Glenn told Rick as Abraham and Rosita started stacking up cans of food.

Rick looked over the food supplies. We hadn't seen that much food since we were at the prison.

"This, this is ours now," Rick told Aaron, taking one of the cans into his hand.

"There's more than enough," Aaron said. His eyes were pleading as he looked up at Rick. I didn't doubt that Rick would kill Aaron if he thought it was necessary… I just hoped it wouldn't get that far.

"It's ours whether or not we go to your camp."

"What do you mean?" Carl asked. "Why wouldn't we go?"

Rick turned to his son, looking at him like he was crazy, but Michonne spoke up.

"If he were lying—or if he wanted to hurt us—but he _isn't_, and he _doesn't_. We need this. So we're going, all of us. Somebody say something if they feel differently."

Michonne said it so firmly and so authoritatively that I would have been surprised if Rick dared to argue with her.

"I don't know, man, this barn smells like horse shit," Daryl said, making me giggle despite the tense situation.

"Yeah," Rick agreed. "We're going."

Rick turned back to Aaron. "So where are we going? Where's your camp?"

"Well, every time I've done this, I've been behind the wheel, driving recruits back. I believe you're good people. I'd bet my life on it, I'm just not ready to bet my friends' lives just yet."

Michonne went to Aaron, taking action before Rick could.

"You're not driving," she told him. "So if you want to get home, you'll have to tell us how."

I think Aaron knew he didn't have much of a choice, so he turned to Rick, who had a map out and ready to mark.

"Go north on Route 16."

"And then?" Michonne prompted.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

He was playing it safe, too. But Rick wasn't having it.

Rick decided we would take Route 23 instead of Route 16. I don't think any of us were surprised that he didn't want to follow Aaron's directions. He also decided we'd go at night, so that we could get out of there without being seen if it was a trap.

We sat down to eat some of the spoils of the RV raid. Rick was serious about going at night, and we had about half a day's worth of sunlight left to kill.

"He's very clean," I said, nodding to Aaron. No one had untied him, but Glenn had given him a drink of water and fed his some of the food.

I looked over at Daryl, whose face was streaked with dirt and sweat. All of us were filthy, covered in dirt from sleeping on the ground and walker blood.

"That doesn't mean he's telling the truth," Carol said. I knew Carol would be as wary of Aaron as Rick was.

I shrugged. I knew Carol had a point, but Aaron was obviously in much better shape than any of us were. The only one who was consistently clean and well fed was Judith, and that was a group effort in and of itself.

Once the sun had gone down, Michonne, Rick, Glenn and Aaron got into the car. The rest of us piled into the RV and followed behind them.

Judith slept in Carl's lap. I kind of envied Judith sometimes, because she was so oblivious to the stress and danger of our day to day lives.

Everyone was prepared, just in case. Daryl had his crossbow close beside him. Rosita was riding shotgun with Abraham, her gun at the ready.

"I wish we knew what was going on in the car," Maggie said, laying her head against one of the RV's windows. She didn't like being separated from Glenn.

"I can just about guarantee that they are A-Okay," Abraham said. "If that guy's dumb enough to try anything, he's surely dumb enough to die."

I just wished it wasn't dark. At least then we could have played cards or something to pass the time. Instead I just sat beside Daryl, looking out the window. There was nothing to see but the dark outline of trees.

When Abraham took a sharp turn, it knocked mine, Daryl's, and Maggie's heads against the window.

"What the hell, man?!" Daryl yelled, but Abraham was cussing underneath his breath.

"There's walkers up there! Too many of them! Glenn kept goin', but we're re-routing."

I rubbed my head, feeling the slight bump under my hair.

"We can't leave them," I said.

"We don't see 'em in the next mile, we'll circle back," Abraham promised.

"Did you see that?" Rosita asked, pointing out the windshield. None of us farther back in the RV saw the flare, but Abraham nodded at her.

"We'll go that way."

The flare was set off near a water tower, so it was safe to assume there would be buildings nearby. Buildings were always a catch-22—they may offer protection from the elements, but they could also be filled with people, either living or dead.

But there was only one building in the area where the flare came from that was lit up by candle light.

"Shit, maybe he did have other people around," Abraham muttered. I exchanged a glance with Maggie—had we been lied to after all?

We all drew our weapons. Daryl and Abraham led the way, with Carl, Judith, Noah, Father Gabriel, and Eugene in the middle. The rest of us made a loose circle around them, our guns out and aimed.

Daryl actually kicked the door in, but there was only one person inside: a man around Aaron's age, his ankle at an odd angle and obviously broken.

"Don't shoot!" he said, holding his hands up as best as he could from his position on the floor. "I set off that flare! I'm with Aaron!"

"That supposed to make us trust you?" Daryl asked, stepping towards him.

"My ankle is broken, I think. I don't pose any risk to you."

Maggie stepped forward, in front of Daryl. She took the man's ankle into her lap.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Eric. I go on runs with Aaron. We look for people. You're Maggie, right? He went out to meet you. I was supposed to wait here, but I went outside and I, well I got attacked by some roamers and got hurt. I dragged myself back here to set off the flare, to let Aaron know I needed help."

He was so scared and near hysterics that I didn't think we had any reason not to believe him.

Maggie helped him while the rest of us made sure the building was secure. Daryl went outside to stand in the doorway and keep watch.

It didn't take long for Rick and the others to find us.

"Eric?!" Aaron called out as he made his way inside.

The rest of us had come running out after Daryl knocked on the door, letting us know it was safe.

There were hugs all around as Rick explained that they had hit too many walkers, gunking up the engine in the car. They had had to leave it and make their way on foot.

Once we were back inside, in a different room than the one we'd left Eric in, Rick went in search of Aaron.

"So we're down a car?" Abraham asked Glenn, the two of them talking shop before we moved forward. Glenn nodded in response just as Rick returned with Aaron.

"Excuse me, everyone," he said. "Thank you. You saved Eric. I owe you. All of you. And I will make sure that debt is paid in full when we get to our community. When we get to Alexandria. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I'd rather not do anymore driving tonight. Maybe we can hit the road tomorrow morning."

"That sounds fine, but if we're staying here for the night, you're sleeping over there," Rick said, pointing in the opposite direction of Eric.

"You really think we got to do that?" Maggie asked.

"It's the safe play," Rick argued. "We don't know you."

"The only way you're going to stop me from being with him right now is by shooting me," Aaron told Rick, his voice hard.

Aaron started to move forward, but Glenn stopped him with an outstretched arm.

"Rick, he told us where the camp is. And he really was only travelling with one other person. They're both unarmed. One of them's got a broken ankle. I want us to be safe, too."

Glenn waited for Rick to answer, but he just stared at him, so Glenn continued.

"I can't give up everything else. I know what I said, but it _does _matter."

"Alright," Rick said, looking around at all of us and nodding.

Aaron went into the other room to sleep with Eric.

"I'll keep watch," Rick said, and Michonne shook her head, smirking.

"Me too. But only for a few hours. You need rest, too, Rick."

We all settled down around the room to sleep. Since Rick was staying up, Carol laid down close beside Carl and Judith.

"I have a good feeling about this," I whispered to Daryl, laying down on my back beside him. I reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"We'll see how good of a feeling it is in the morning."


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two

**_Chapter Thirty-Two_**

* * *

Alexandria.

As our luck always tended to go, our RV broke down when we were halfway to the new home Aaron and Eric promised us. Thank God for Glenn, who somehow knew where the extra battery was kept.

"We used to run with a guy named Dale. Had an RV, he taught Glenn a few things," Daryl explained to me. I didn't have to ask what happened to him. We all knew the fate of people we used to know in the dead world.

I was standing with him on top of the RV, keeping watch over everyone while Glenn and Abraham worked.

"Carol told me she still doesn't think Aaron and Eric are telling the truth." I lifted my hand to my eyes to shield them from the sunlight as I looked around. I was surprised there were no walkers milling around.

Before the RV had broken down, Carol had been casually staring out one of the windows that just happened to give her a perfect line of sight to the back room where Aaron and Eric were.

"They owe us, now. We saved both of them. They'd be pretty damn stupid to be lying to us after last night."

The RV rumbled under our feet and Tara cheered as Glenn and Abraham brought it back to life.

Daryl hopped down from the RV and then helped me down.

"I guess we'll see pretty soon," I said with a shrug.

Back inside the RV, I picked up the game of checkers I'd been playing with Noah. He had me trapped on my side of the board, or so I thought. I was considering my moves when Daryl's hand moved over mine.

He jumped four of Noah's checkers and landed mine on the other side of the board.

"King her," he said, and I smiled at him. I hadn't even seen that pattern to make the move.

The first thing we saw of Alexandria was the wall. I thought it was both smart—a defense against the outside—and poorly used. No one was even _guarding_ the wall. It was tall enough that we couldn't see inside, but was it tall enough to be unclimbable from the outside?

"It sounds happy, anyway," I said to Daryl as we approached it. You could hear children laughing and people talking.

"It sounds like they don't know how to be quiet," Daryl countered. His eyes were scanning the top of the wall. I knew he noticed the lack of anyone keeping watch, too. He was sizing the place up. We all were.

From the inside, someone opened the front gate. Aaron and Eric started moving forward, but the rest of us stopped.

A rattling noise behind us made us all turn and point our weapons, but it was just a possum. Daryl shot it through the stomach with his crossbow and picked it up by the tail.

"We brought dinner," Daryl said to the man who had opened the gate, lifting the possum a little. The man looked so utterly horrified that I had to try hard not to laugh.

"It's okay," Aaron told the man. "C'mon in, guys."

We all shuffled forward, moving carefully. Cautiously.

As soon as we were all inside the gate, the man spoke. "Before we take this any farther, I need you all to turn over your weapons. To stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick said, moving towards the man. I don't know how Rick managed to look intimidating while holding the baby, but even with Judith occupying on of his arms I'd never want to mess with him.

"It's fine, Nicholas," Aaron said, trying to diffuse the situation before it could start.

"If we were gonna use them, we would have started already." Rick continued as if Aaron never spoke.

"Let them talk to Deanna first," Aaron told this Nicholas guy. He was afraid of us, and I was glad for it. I didn't really know why, but I wanted Nicholas to be afraid. He didn't seem like Aaron and Eric.

"Who's Deanna?" Abraham practically yelled.

"She knows everything you'd want to know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?"

Rick turned from Aaron. We could all hear the snarling sounds of a walker, and with the gate still not completely closed, it could see and hear us clearly. It was making a beeline for us.

"Sasha," Rick said simply, nodding. Sasha turned and aimed her gun and shot the walker's head off.

"It's a good thing we're here," he continued. I really don't think Aaron, let alone Nicholas, knew what to make of us. They were still alive, safe behind the walls of Alexandria, but they had obviously never seen a survivor before.

When Aaron had said 'Rick, why don't you start?', I never would have guessed he meant for Rick to be the start of an interview process. Apparently proving ourselves to Aaron and Eric was not enough—to earn a keep in Alexandria, you had to be cleared by Deanna.

I don't know what the interviews with everyone else was like, not really. I only know what mine was like, though Deanna had all of the interviews on tape somewhere.

"Hello," Deanna told me as I walked into her house. It looked like houses did before: nice, lived in. Safe.

"Hi," I said, stopping to stand in the middle of the living room. I felt too dirty to be in her clean house.

"I'm Deanna Monroe." She extended her hand for me to shake.

"Olivia Harrison, but everyone except Eugene calls me Livy."

She laughed. Eugene had already been interviewed. So had most everyone. I was one of the last ones called in.

"Livy, why don't you have a seat?"

I felt myself blush. "Well, I, uh, I didn't want to get your furniture dirty."

She smiled at me. "You're alright. Plenty others have sat down already."

So I took a seat across from her and waited. No one had told me what kind of questions she asked, not even Daryl he'd only said it was stupid. Carol's only advice had been to lie about my abilities, not to reveal what I was capable of.

"What did you do before?"

I shrugged. "Not a lot. I was in college. I ran track and I worked as a secretary for one of my professors."

"And after?"

"A lot of things. Sometimes I helped Glenn on runs, or I'd go hunting with Daryl. I mostly farmed with Maggie's father. He, uh… we lost him." I was surprised to feel my throat close up when I talked about Hershel. All of us missed him, but we didn't talk about it. It was a shared, unspoken grief.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Deanna said it so genuinely that I didn't _think _she was lying. But she had said she used to be a politician.

I shrugged again.

"Daryl told me to just put him wherever I put you." I laughed.

"He's much sweeter than he pretends to be. I'll vouch for him. He won't do well with a job inside the walls, though. He's a hunter. He needs to be outside like he needs to breathe."

Deanna smiled at me. "I'm going to do my best to give everyone a job here. We've been fortunate to have large supplies of food from before, but I know that won't last forever. Livy, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that you know how to farm and Daryl knows how to hunt. Both will be valuable assets."

I smiled back at her, but it wasn't like it was a big deal or anything. They were just skills, and to survive in the world, you needed skills.

I didn't realize I had been absentmindedly tracing the scar left on my arm from where the Terminus girl had bit me until I saw Deanna's eyes fix on it.

"It seems your people have been through a lot."

"We have," I admitted. "But we've gotten through it all because of Rick. He's saved my life more than once. I would follow him anywhere he told me to go."

It was true, though I'd never thought about it until I said the words.

Deanna nodded in response. "Everyone is getting their own house, as we have plenty to spare. I assume you and Daryl will be living together?"

The question made my face go hot. I knew I must have been blushing a lot.

"Um, yeah. If I can convince him to sleep inside."

Deanna laughed and told me she would find me later, so we could start plans to section off some land for farming.

I found Daryl as soon as she was done with me. It was Tara's turn next.

"It's weird not having a gun," I told him, playing with the empty holster still strapped to my leg. Daryl was walking around the houses Deanna had assigned to us. They were all together, our own little neighborhood, but they still felt too far apart.

"I don't like it," he said, his eyes roaming over the houses. We met up with Rick and Carol between two of the houses.

"They're right next to each other, but…" Carol drifted off. She didn't have to finish the sentence. We were all thinking the same thing.

"They took our weapons and now they're splitting us up," Rick said. We all agreed. It was their safety measure against us, the new wildlings. But I didn't really like it. It made me uncomfortable.

"We'll all be staying in the same house tonight," Rick added.

We all went off to explore some more. I drifted towards the wall with Daryl. He kicked against it softly.

"It's all just sheet metal," I said, running my hand over it. "It'll keep out walkers, but not people with guns. Or anyone smart enough to make it over the wall."

"These people've been lucky. That's how they've survived this long, just dumb luck."

"They don't know how to survive," I said, dropping my voice down to a whisper. "Eric and Aaron are the only ones who know what it's like outside of the walls, it looks like. These people are more dangerous to themselves than they are to us."

When night fell, we congregated in the house Deanna had given to Rick. Couches and armchairs were claimed for the night, and beds were made on the floor. Someone had managed to find a playpen for Judith to sleep in.

"How long was I in there for?" Michonne asked, coming into the living room from the bathroom. I looked up and shrugged. I was sitting with Carol, watching her sketch on a little pad of yellow paper. She was making a rough map of Alexandria.

"Twenty minutes," Rick answered.

"God, I could not stop brushing," Michonne admitted. She was happy to be in Alexandria.

Most of us had taken showers. I say most of us, because Daryl was still refusing. When I'd gone into the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror, I almost couldn't believe it was me. My hair was wild. I couldn't tell the difference between my tanned skin, my freckles, and the dirt that covered me head to foot.

No wonder Nicholas had been so wary when Aaron led us through the gate.

There was a knock at the door. It was Deanna.

"I don't mean to interrupt," she said to Rick, "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling."

She looked around the living room, noticing, for the first time, that we were all in one house.

"Oh, my. Staying together. Smart."

"No one said we couldn't," Rick countered.

"You said you're a family," Deanna smiled up at Rick. "That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"

"Everybody said you gave them jobs," Rick said, ignoring her question.

"Mhm. Yeah. Part of this place. Looks like the Communists won after all," Deanna laughed at her own joke.

I couldn't decide if Deanna liked us or not. If she was being genuine, it wasn't smart of her to go off of Aaron's assessment of us alone. Not that Aaron was wrong—we weren't dangerous—but still, how did she know that for herself?

We all hunkered down for sleep after Deanna left. It was obvious to all of us that these people didn't know how to fight, so we didn't bother setting up a watch system.

That didn't keep Daryl from staying up after everyone had drifted off, though.

"You are supposed to be sleeping," I whispered to him, tugging on his arm. He was still sitting up, looking out the window near Judith's playpen, a knife in his hand.

"So are you," he whispered back to me.

"Nobody's gonna get us," I reminded him. "I would be surprised if even half of them knew how to hold a gun. C'mon, lay down."

It took several minutes of whispered coaxing, but Daryl did finally lay down beside me.

In the morning it was a new battle with Daryl. More of our group was being interviewed by Deanna, and she had told us to explore Alexandria and meet our new neighbors for the day.

Except Daryl was seated firmly on the porch of Rick's house, refusing to move.

"You don't have to talk to people," I pointed out to him. I was sitting on the railing of the porch, looking down at him where he was sitting. "But it would be nice to get a lay of the land. Know who lives where."

Daryl only shrugged his shoulders.

"She said explore," Rick said, coming out of his house. "Let's explore."

I threw him an exasperated look. Daryl was not having it.

"Nah, I'll stay." See, Daryl wasn't gonna move.

"All right," Rick relented. I thought he was going to walk off the porch, go look around with Carl and Judith. But he stopped to watch someone walk a dog and then turned back to us.

"Lori and me, we used to drive through neighborhoods like this, thinking 'One day…'."

"Well," Daryl said, looking down at his feet. "Here we are."

"We'll be back," Rick said, taking his leave.

"C'mon, Daryl," I tried again. "We could at least follow Carol around, see how good her acting skills are."

I wasn't sure what Carol's plans were, but she had been playing herself off as helpless since we got to Alexandria.

That comment actually earned me a smirk, but Daryl shook his head.

"Well, fine," I said, hopping down from the railing and plopping myself down beside him.

"You should go and explore," he said, pulling on one of my curls. My hair was down instead of in its usual braid. Daryl let go of the curl and watched it bounce.

"Nope. You're stuck with me."

For that day, I sat with him on the porch. But the next day, after much insisting on Daryl's part, I wandered around Alexandria.

I started at the gate we came through just two days ago and started pacing the wall out. I wanted to know how big the place was. The answer: Bigger than I would have ever thought. I had no idea how they had kept this place going for so long. I wondered if I'd even be able to run the entire length of it in one go.

Somebody's hand on my arm stopped my pacing. I looked up to see Carol, dressed in a button-up shirt and a cardigan. Her outfit made me laugh.

"Oh, Carol," I said. "That outfit just isn't you."

She smiled back at me shook her head. "We can't reveal all of our cards to them."

"I don't think they're dangerous," I told her, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Just…dumb."

"Dumb is dangerous," she countered. "If they doing something stupid, it could get us killed as easily as it could kill them."

Carol looked around, making sure we were alone.

"We need them to think we want to be here, even if we really don't. That includes Daryl. You need to convince him to get cleaned up, to at least pretend he's okay with being here."

Daryl still hadn't showered or changed clothes. It was like a silent rebellion of his to not conform at all.

"I know, he's sticking out right now. I'm not sure what his deal is."

"Me neither, but he needs to cut his crap if we're going to lie low here."

I nodded at her and promised to try to talk Daryl into behaving. That seemed to satisfy her.

"Now I need to go meet all of our lovely neighbors. I'm going to be cooking for some of them. That's the job Deanna gave me, caretaker of the helpless."

I had to suppress my laugh as Carol winked at me, straightened her cardigan, and walked off.

I found Daryl cleaning his crossbow, sitting on Rick's porch again. I leaned over the railing he was sitting against.

"Y'know, if you can clean your crossbow, you can clean yourself."

Daryl tipped his head back to look at me and smirked.

"Never did like showers much."

"Then go outside and find a creek. The point is, we need to blend with these people."

"Carol got to ya, didn't she?"

I nodded and he sighed.

"She has a point, Daryl."

"Fine. I'll shower…tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes, but I knew this was as good as I was going to get.

There was yelling, somewhere. The place was big, but it was also mostly quiet—not enough people to fill it up with noise.

We both recognized Glenn's voice among the yells. Daryl was on his feet in a second. We ran up to the front, where Glenn was arguing with a man with black hair.

"Look, I'm not having this conversation," the guy told Glenn, like he had some kind of authority over him. "You obey _my _orders out there."

Our group was congregating around their fight, all of them rushing from wherever they had been to see what was going on.

"Then we're just as screwed as your last run crew," Glenn told the man. He stepped forward, getting in Glenn's face.

"Say that again." Daryl started moving towards them, and I didn't even try to stop him. Whoever this guy was fighting with Glenn, I didn't like him.

"Back off, Aiden," Tara said, but the man—Aiden, apparently—pushed Glenn.

"Come on, man. Just take a step back." Noah tried to insert himself into their argument, but neither Glenn nor Aiden paid him much attention.

"C'mon, tough guy," Aiden said, pushing Glenn again. I glanced at Daryl. He was tensed and ready to jump into the fight and help Glenn at any moment.

"No one's impressed, man," Glenn said calmly. "Walk away."

"Aiden!" Deanna yelled, walking up to the confrontation. "What is going on?"

Let me just mention that during all this time, no one had thought to close the damn gate. It was standing wide open.

"This guy's got a problem with the way we do things." Aiden turned to Deanna. "Why'd you let these people in?"

"Because we actually know what we're doing out there," Glenn said. Aiden turned and took a swing at Glenn, but it was easily dodged. Glenn landed a punch right on Aiden's face.

"Aiden, no! That's enough!" Deanna yelled. Aiden fell to the ground from Glenn's punch and Nicholas lunged toward Glenn, but Daryl jumped forward and tackled Nicholas.

"I said that is enough!" Deanna yelled again. I didn't try to stop Glenn nor Daryl. These Alexandria guys were jerks, and I didn't care if they got the crap beat out of them.

But Rick and Carl came in through the gates as the fight started and Rick pulled Daryl off of Nicholas. If Rick hadn't pulled Daryl off, Nicholas might have died—Daryl was choking him out.

"I want everyone to hear me, okay?" Deanna said loudly. Not yelling, but she obviously wanted to be heard. "Rick and his people are part of this community now, in all ways, as equals. Understood?"

Deanna gave Aiden a pointed look.

Our time in Alexandria was off to a lovely start.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

**_Chapter Thirty-Three_**

* * *

On our second night in Alexandria, Rick deemed it safe enough for us to sleep in our own homes. I don't think Rick's confidence had so much to do with Deanna's obvious trust in us as much as it did with the fact that we could easily take all of Alexandria's residents down easily if it came to that.

It was weird to walk into the house that Deanna had pointed to just one day before and had said it was mine. Well, and Daryl's, if I succeeded in convincing him to sleep inside.

Which was to be my first battle fought within the walls of Alexandria. Just outside the bedroom window of my brand-new house, on the porch, sat a very stubborn and still dirty Daryl Dixon. I opened the window and leaned out of it, right over where Daryl was sitting with his crossbow.

"Hey, you know what's _way_ better than sleeping outside?" I asked. Daryl tipped his head backward to look at me, but he didn't answer. I rolled my eyes at him and his silent act. He'd been sulking since Rick and Michonne accepted Deanna's offer for the two of them to be the constables of Alexandria.

"C'mon, Daryl. I know you don't want to be here. We all know it. But as long as we _are _here, we might as well enjoy it a little bit. Come inside, please. Who knows when you'll get a chance to sleep on an actual bed again if we leave here."

I'm not sure if he decided I had a point, or if he just knew I was liable to stand at that window and bug him to agree. Either way, with a sigh that signaled just what a huge inconvenience this was to him, Daryl picked up his crossbow and stood up.

"Move," he said, motioning with his hand for me to get out of his way.

"Oh, yeah. Because walking to the door is such a silly idea," I said, stepping back and making room for him to lift himself through the window.

"Window was already open," Daryl pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, crossing my arms and tilting my head as I looked at him. Daryl glanced at me and then took a double take, realizing I was wearing pajamas—a huge t-shirt and a pair of shorts some lady on Deanna's welcoming crew had given me.

She had given me a lot of clothes, for both Daryl and me, and there was still more left over from someone else in the house's closet. The people of Alexandria were surprisingly free with their resources, save for their weapons, all locked away in the armory.

I realized this was the first time Daryl had seen me in clothes that weren't covered in dirt and blood, or the horrendous shade of orange the prison jumpsuits were.

"I didn't know you have a tattoo," Daryl said when his eyes fixed on my bare legs. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, yeah. The most stereotypically New Mexican tattoo ever. It's a sugar skull, from Day of the Dead." I looked down at the colorful skull, surrounded by desert cactus blooms. I had got it the day I turned eighteen.

"Every day is Day of the Dead now," Daryl said with a smirk, his eyes moving back up and smirking at me.

"Oooh, you're a comedian now," I teased him. "I'm pretty sure you still owe me a shower. I already put clothes in the bathroom for you, so don't try to argue out of it."

"You were that sure I'd come in here?" Daryl asked, reluctantly leaning his crossbow close to the bed.

"One way or another, I would have made it happen." I shrugged at him and then moved forward and kissed him. I had wrapped my arms around his neck, and I felt Daryl's circle my waist. But even as he leaned into it, I pushed him away.

"No distractions," I said. "Go shower."

Daryl grunted at me and turned to leave. I sat down on the bed, and was immediately amazed at how soft it was. I hadn't touched it, as I'd already decided that if I couldn't convince Daryl to come inside, I would sleep outside on the porch with him. Not that he needed to know that, because he would have picked the porch.

This was not a hard pallet on a bunker floor, or an even harder prison mattress, or the ground. This was _amazingly_ soft, and not just because I hadn't seen a real bed in about a year.

It was obvious that the residents who originally had intended to live in Alexandria were filthy rich. Just the sheets on the bed felt like a soft, cool cloud; the mattress was somehow even more comfortable and inviting.

_Maybe Carol is right,_ I thought, laying back on the bed and loving the way my body relaxed into it. _Maybe this place will make us soft._

I could see, very easily, how we might all get used to having creature comforts again. At the same time, though, I wasn't sure any of the luxuries in the world could take away everything we'd endured. The Governor, the sickness that hit us in the prison, the Claimers, Terminus, endless walkers…never mind pillow-top mattresses, our life on the road had settled down into our bones. We were survivors.

That doesn't mean I wasn't susceptible to the comforts of that bed. I hadn't realized I was so tired, down to my bones, until I laid down on that bed. I was dozing towards sleep when Daryl came back into the room.

I heard him chuckle. "Forget how to use a bed?"

"Ha-ha," I replied to his tease. "I was waiting for you…but I may have fallen asleep just a little bit."

Daryl plopped down on the bed beside me just as I started to sit up, rubbing my eyes and pushing curls off my face.

"Hey, look at that. You're clean. I don't think I've ever seen you clean," I said, looking down at him. His hair was damp, and without all the dirt covering his skin, I was actually several shades darker than him.

Daryl looked up at me with soft blue eyes. He may not have been happy about Alexandria as a whole, but the fact that we were truly alone for the first time was not lost on either of us.

"Me and you," Daryl said, his voice a husky whisper. "We don't die."

"No," I agreed, shaking my head. "We don't die."

It was like a pact, a verbal acknowledgment that Daryl and I, we were in this together. We wouldn't die, we would survive, _together_. Honestly, it was kind of like finally defining what we had going on.

I think we ended up together because we were both outsiders when I came to the prison. But that was Daryl's whole thing—he liked being the outsider, being on the fringes, having the freedom to come and go as he pleased. When I arrived at the prison, I needed a friend, and Daryl was the most accessible person to me. And then, well, even though we were often quiet together, we'd somehow grown to the shared agreement that we had something.

I noticed that Daryl did not wear more than the boxers I had left in the bathroom, though I'd put a full set of clothes in there. I wasn't sure what he would want to sleep in. While _I _jumped at the chance to sleep in something other than jeans and boots, I thought maybe Daryl, ever high-strung with the desire to be ready at a moment's notice, might want to sleep with more clothing on.

I was still sitting up, and Daryl came to join me, taking my hand and pulling me toward him with a forwardness that surprised me. While Daryl had always been more than accepting of affection from me, I'd almost always been the one to initiate it up to that point.

He kissed me in the dark—I hadn't turned on the bedroom light, even though Deanna had no rules about electricity conservation or use after dark—and he kissed me in a way that seemed entirely contrary to the idea of Daryl Dixon. The kiss was soft and slow and it didn't end as he laid me back on the bed.

His hands were somehow rough and gentle at the same time as they moved under that t-shirt. Maybe it was the dark, and the solitude, that made us so bold. I had kissed Daryl plenty of times before, and held his hand often, and slept beside him, but we'd never done _this_.

Neither of us made a move to stop the other. I let Daryl slip the t-shirt over my head, and the pajama shorts down my legs. Then we matched, both only in underwear. The kisses were still soft but no longer slow; now they were more urgent and trailed necks and shoulder, over chests and down stomachs.

We had to be careful. Keeping Judith alive was challenging enough—there was no need to add another baby to our group. And it's not like anyone was making condoms during the apocalypse. We were careful, though.

After, sleep was amazingly easy to come by. I think it was probably the best sleep I'd gotten since this whole dead-come-back-to-life mess started.

"We don't die," Daryl repeated, pulling me close to him so that I was laying on his chest.

"No, we don't die," I promised, feeling hazy and happy, slipping into sleep.

The second night in Alexandria wasn't so bad, to say the least.

* * *

**A/N:** Extremely shameless fluff chapter... a sweet, no one is dying or fighting chapter before things go down tomorrow on the midseason premiere! Sorry it's kind of short, I promise there will be more to come! I know I've been pretty MIA-this semester has been crazy, but believe me, I am not giving up on Daryl and Livy!


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four

**_Chapter Thirty-Four_**

* * *

I woke up slowly the next morning. In that wonderful, hazy morning sleep, all I was aware of was soft sheets against my skin and Daryl's heartbeat underneath my cheek.

It was the first wakeup that didn't come with perpetual danger attached, and I was rather fond of it.

I opened my eyes and picked up my sleep-heavy head from Daryl's chest. He was already awake, but I guess he hadn't moved since I was sleeping with my head on his chest. I was greeted with a chuckle from Daryl.

"Don't laugh at my hair," I grumbled, pushing curls off my face. "I know you're laughing at my hair."

"I'm not laughing at your hair," he insisted, but there was still a smirk on his face.

"Bullshit, yes you are." That only made him smile wider. "I don't wanna get up."

I flopped back down onto the pillows.

"We have to," Daryl said, playing with strands of my hair. "I'm gonna go outside the walls later."

"That didn't take long," I muttered against his skin, burying my face against his shoulder and pulling the covers up to my chin.

"What didn't take long?"

"Going outside. I knew you wouldn't be able to stand it, being inside these fancy Alexandria walls."

We were quiet for a few minutes before Daryl started to shift underneath me.

"No, what are you doing? Don't leave."

"We can't get used to bein' lazy in bed, darlin'."

I rolled over and watched him get dressed. I hadn't noticed last night, in the dark with no lights on, that Daryl had scars—and a tattoo—on his back. I wondered about them, but I didn't want to ask.

"Can't get soft," I said, even though I was totally not looking forward to leaving the comfortable bed.

"No, we can't," Daryl agreed, pulling a pair of pants on. "Did you cut the sleeves off this shirt?"

I smiled up at him while he pulled his arms through the sleeve holes. "You don't hardly ever wear sleeves anyway."

He smiled at me and bent down to kiss my forehead. "Naw, I don't. Get dressed, woman."

I rolled my eyes, but I knew he was right. I needed to get up. There was a lot to do, now that we were in an actual civilization again.

But I did get out of bed and pull on clothes: some jeans that weren't covered in holes and bloodstains and a tank top that looked brand new. Oh, clean clothes. I hadn't seen those since the prison.

Once I had stood up from pulling my boots on, Daryl pulled me to him. He didn't say anything, he just held me close to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and stood still with him until he let go.

He didn't say anything when we parted, either. He kind of just smiled at me and rand a hand over my still wild hair before kissing me on the mouth.

I was pulling my hair into a ponytail when there was a knock on the door. From the bathroom, I could hear Carol's voice.

"Oh, I see Livy did get your stubborn-self inside some walls." Characteristically, Daryl didn't say anything, so Carol continued. "Meet me and Rick outside the walls in about an hour. I told Deanna you two were going to take me out for some shooting practice."

"Alright." Daryl answered.

I knew Carol would be up to something soon. I may not have felt 100% about the place, and neither did Daryl, but Carol out and out didn't not trust anything about Alexandria.

"Shooting practice, huh?" I said, meeting Daryl in the kitchen. He was rooting through the cabinets. The other Olivia, as I was referring to the woman in my head, had brought us some food. Daryl found a box of granola bars and tossed me a chocolate chip one.

"Carol's already schemin'," Daryl said. He hoisted himself up onto the counter to eat his granola bar, so I did the same. Who sits at kitchen tables, I suppose.

"Don't try to say you're surprised."

We ate our granola bars, and when we were done, Daryl went into the bedroom to retrieve his crossbow.

"She wasn't always that way," Daryl said when he returned. It took me a moment to realize he was talking about Carol. "She used to have a daughter."

"Carol had a kid?" This was the first I'd heard of it.

Daryl nodded. "A little girl, 'bout Carl's age. Her name was Sophia. We lost her, she got bit and she turned. Carol don't talk 'bout her, though."

I knew we were months into the end of the world when I'd stumbled upon this group of mine, but I hadn't realized there was so much I didn't know.

Before leaving, Daryl tipped his head under the faucet of the kitchen sink and took a drink right from the tap, not even bothering with a cup. I smirked and shook my head while he drank. It was such a quintessentially _Daryl _thing to do.

Daryl left to meet Rick and Carol, and I thought some more about what Daryl had told me.

It made sense, though. How naturally Carol was able to calm and soothe Judith. How mothering she was to the group, even though she was strong and hard at the same time. I'd never thought about it, but once Daryl said it, everything made perfect sense. _Of course_ Carol was a mother. It was ingrained in everything she did.

I didn't have a lot to do. Deanna had given me a job, but the farming wasn't something I could start immediately. She wanted me to wait until they had gotten some more of the wall up, and there was more empty land to use.

I went back to the closet and looked at the clothes the previous owners had left there. It was obvious this home was intended for a family—there were sets of men's and women's clothes in the closet, and one of the other bedrooms had been painted a pale blue like it was expecting a baby boy to live there.

Lucky for us, whoever was supposed to live in our house was close in size to both of us. The workout clothes I found were only a little too big, but I think that had more to do with the fact that those weeks on the road had robbed all of us of weight. Maybe in Alexandria, we could gain back what we'd lost.

The shoes, however, did not fit. She must have had Cinderella sized feet, the original owner. There was no way I was going to fit my foot in her shoes.

That was fine, though. You don't need shoes to run, especially if you plan on running on the lush green grass of Alexandria.

It was still pretty early in the day, but it seemed Alexandria was a community of early risers. Which was good. At least, if they weren't smart enough to survive, they were smart enough to be productive.

I sat in the grass on the front lawn and stretched my legs, getting them warmed up and ready to run.

Sticking close to the wall, I ran laps around Alexandria. I waved to Glenn and Maggie, smiled at Carl and Judith playing in the grass, marveled at the fact that at least one Alexandrian resident had a pet—someone was walking a dog.

A big pro for me, as far as living in Alexandria, was the fact that it gave me the freedom to run without having to worry about walkers. In the open, walkers were everywhere. At the prison, they were always just beyond the chain link fence. In Alexandria, they had no idea we were in here.

And let me tell you, I love running. I love everything about it. I love the ache left in my legs after a long run, the fresh air, my heart pumping hard and fast, the euphoric high it brings coursing through my veins.

I hadn't expected to have a deep ache in the ribs I'd broken after just five laps. I didn't realize that, with the rough life we lived, it would take so long to heal completely. They hadn't hurt in so long, I'd nearly forgotten they'd ever been broken.

It hurt enough that I had to slow to a walk. My feet were covered in grass stains from the dew I'd ran in.

Deanna caught me as I was walking back to mine and Daryl's house.

"Are you alright?" She asked, a concerned look on her face. I was holding my side.

"Oh, yeah, it's an old injury. I broke a few ribs, and I thought they'd be all the way healed by now, but that run just proved me wrong."

She looked as if she were considering something for a moment before her expression shifted to a smile.

"You aren't wearing shoes."

"Oh, no. None of the ones in the closet fit me, but you don't really need shoes to run, so I went anyway."

"I'll bring you some shoes that fit before tonight. I'm hosting a welcome party for all of you in my home. I see the clothes fit, but shoes are a little trickier to come by, huh? What size do you wear?"

By the way she told me rather than invited me, I knew this little party wasn't an option. It was mandatory. So I told her I wear a seven, but all of the shoes in the closet had been fives.

"I'll see you and Daryl tonight, Livy," she said with another smile.

Daryl didn't return when Rick and Carol did, not that I expected him to. I had a feeling he'd spend as much time outside of the walls, as soon as possible. I was curious what had been discussed in the woods, but I decided to wait until Daryl came back.

I didn't blame Daryl for staying in the woods. The people of Alexandria were wary of him, with his quiet, rough ways. They had no idea he was a great man.

Daryl was not back by the time Deanna's party started. I wrote him a note and left it on the counter:

_I don't blame you if you don't come. I'll go, one of us has to keep up the appearances. And I'll steal you some of Carol's cookies. Take me with you next time you go outside the wall._

_Xoxo, Livy_

I pinned my curly hair up and put on a purple dress I'd found in the closet. Deanna was true to her word and had brought me a pair of silver heels earlier in the day.

I found Carol as soon as I got in the door to Deanna's party. I didn't say anything about what Daryl had told me, of course. I just felt better being near Carol.

"Where's Daryl?" She asked, pouring wine into the glass Deanna had handed me.

"He hasn't come back from the woods yet," I told her. "But at least I'm here, I guess. You should have known he wouldn't come to this."

"Yeah, I know. We need to make them trust us, though."

The party was boring, in all honestly. And the shoes Deanna gave me hurt. I wore a dress, because I kind of just assumed that party equaled dress, but I was wishing I'd worn pants like Carol.

Truly the only highlights of the party included the wine, Carol's cookies, and playing with Judith for a few minutes.

Most of my time at the party was spent answering questions about the sliver-pink bite wound on my arm.

Some of the residents asked if it was from a walker. A _walker_. Like I'd still be alive if that had happened. Carol was right, their stupidity was dangerous.

But I didn't tell them that I had gotten the bite because I was helping fight cannibals in order to save my friends. I just told them it was from a human and left it at that.

I had drifted towards a window when some movement outside caught my eye. It was Daryl, motioning for me to come outside. Everyone was drinking and talking by that point, so it wasn't hard for me to take some of Carol's cookies and slip out Deanna's front door.

"You're an angel," I told him as soon as I was outside, slipping the heels off of my feet. "A savior. It was torture in there."

He smiled, and I realized he was dressed to go to the party. He had changed shirts, into one with sleeves on it, and his pants were clean.

"Let's get outta here," Daryl said, taking my hand.

We were walking down the street when the porchlight on one of the houses came on. Aaron poked his head out of the door.

"Daryl, Livy," he said. "Hey."

"Thought you were going to that party over there," Daryl said, pointing.

"Oh, I was never going to go, 'cause of Eric's ankle, thank God."

"Believe me, you weren't missing anything," I told Aaron. Daryl squinted his eyes and looked at Aaron.

"Why the hell did you tell me to go, then?"

"I said try. You did. It's a thought that counts thing."

"Alright," Daryl said, turning to go and tugging on my hand.

"Hey, come in. Have some dinner."

Daryl just looked at Aaron. I liked Aaron, and I was hungry—they hadn't had more than little finger food appetizers at Deanna's party.

"C'mon, man," Aaron said, as if he knew Daryl was the only one he needed to convince. "It's some pretty serious spaghetti."

Daryl looked at me. I nodded, he shrugged, and we followed Aaron inside.

At Aaron and Eric's table, Daryl ate like he was in a competition to win the title of World's Fastest Spaghetti Eater. He shoveled it in his mouth, not even bother to wind the noodles on his fork.

I've eaten with Daryl plenty of times, and I know that he has enough manners that when we aren't pressed for time, he eats properly. He was putting on a show, and I had to suppress giggles.

"Thanks," Daryl said mid-spaghetti shoveling, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before using the napkin Aaron had given him.

"Mmm, when you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs. Neudermyer is really looking for a pasta maker. And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it," Eric said to Daryl.

"Oh, God. Don't say 'pasta maker'. I already suffered through fifteen minutes of hearing about what an asset a pasta maker would be." I said, and Aaron and Eric both laughed.

"I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something. I really think she just wants something to talk about, so…if you see one, out on your travels, it would go a long way to…"

At first, I didn't think anything of what Eric was saying. Of course Daryl would be spending time outside the wall, that's just who he was. When he said 'travels', though, and Aaron gave him a pointed look, I realized there was something else going on.

I looked at Daryl and furrowed my brow, but he seemed equally confused. Both of us turned to Eric.

"I thought it was done. You didn't ask him already?" Aaron shook his head and looked down at his spaghetti.

"Ask me what?" Daryl said.

"Follow me," Aaron said. Daryl got up and motioned with his head for me to come, too. We followed Aaron to the garage, which held a lot of metal pieces and something covered by a tarp.

"When I got the place, there was that frame and some parts and equipment. Whoever lived here built them."

"It's a lot of parts for one bike," Daryl said, looking over all the parts laid out on a work bench.

"Whenever I came across any parts out there, I brought them back. I didn't know what I'd need. I always thought I'd learn how to do it, but I get the feeling you already know what to do with it. And the thing is, you're going to need a bike."

"Why?"

"I told Deanna not to give you a job because I think I have one for you. I'd like you to be Alexandria's other recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore."

Daryl nodded and turned away to look at me. I was standing back, letting the two of them talk.

"You want me risking mine, right?"

"Yeah, because you know what you're doing. You're good out there. But you don't belong out there. I know, it's hard getting used to people getting used to you, and I understand right now you need to be out there sometimes. So do I."

Daryl lifted the tarp off the bike frame Aaron said was under it. He didn't say anything, so Aaron continued.

"But the main reason I want you to help me recruit you do know the difference between a good person and a bad person."

I had the feeling Aaron and Daryl must have had some adventures outside the walls that day.

"I got nothing else to do," Daryl said with a shrug. _Rude,_ I thought, but I was really happy. This was perfect for Daryl.

"Thanks," Daryl said, moving back to where I was. "I'll get you some rabbits."

"This is good," I whispered to Daryl, taking his arm and giving it a squeeze. "This is _great_."

"Well, it ain't farmin'," he teased. "But it'll do."

Aaron and Eric were the first friends we made in Alexandria. A little ironic when you consider the fact that, as far as we were concerned, Aaron might as well have been public enemy number on just a few days ago.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long! Here's a long chapter for y'all to enjoy. Some scenes/dialogue taken from The Walking Dead season 5, Episode 13 "Forget", which I DO NOT OWN. No copyright infringement intended. I hope y'all enjoy, please leave a review if you feel so inclined!


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five

**_Chapter Thirty-Five_**

* * *

While pulling bobby pins from my hair for me, Daryl told me about being out in the words with Aaron.

"We found a horse," Daryl said. He was sitting on the bed, and I was sitting in front of him, his fingers in my hair as he worked the pins out of my curls. It was dark; neither of us felt the need to turn on the electric lights at night.

"Aaron called him Buttons. We tried to lasso him, bring 'im back. Walkers ate him."

"Walkers tend to ruin good things."

"Yeah, so do stupid ass people."

"Amen to that."

We fell silent while Daryl pulled the rest of the pins out. I was happy to be gone of them, they were making my head hurt.

"Nice dress, by the way." I laughed. I'd already taken the dress off in favor of pajamas.

"Thanks. Those heels sucked, though." I shook my hair out until it felt loose and light again, and then I turned to Daryl.

"I think you'll like working with Aaron. It'll be a lot more fun for you than staying cooped up behind the walls all the time."

In the weak moonlight, I just barely made out Daryl's nod. He had plans to start working on the bike in the morning, so that they could start runs as soon as possible.

"Does Deanna have you doing anything tomorrow?" Daryl asked, but I shook my head. Rick didn't have anything for me to do, either.

"We'll go huntin' in the afternoon, then. I'm tired of eatin' all this canned crap."

"Oh, look who's being picky now that he has more options to choose from than worms he dug out of the ground or feral dogs," I teased, earning a chuckle in return.

"We best be gettin' to sleep."

We were trying to roughly keep the same sleeping schedule we'd had on the road, so that we'd still wake at dawn. So far, it had been working.

Early in the morning, Daryl left me with a kiss to go to Aaron and Eric's house. I was left largely to my own devices. I decided it would be a good idea to make running every day a habit, both for my health and so I could continue to be nosy. I still didn't have running shoes, but I dressed for it anyway and ran barefoot on the morning dew covered grass.

It seemed most of Alexandria's residents preferred to sleep in. A few of the elderly people Carol cooked for were up, and so was the young blonde woman that Rick had been chatting with at Deanna's party. She was in her yard, working on some kind of sculpture. I hadn't caught her name, but I knew she had two sons and a husband.

I saw plenty of our own people awake, just few Alexandrians. Oh, they had been pampered by those walls and houses with soft beds.

My ribs hurt far less on that second run. The blood flow was good for them, I imagined. When I got back to the house, I took a shower and decided I might as well do _something_.

I was still trying to think up something to do for the day when there was a knock at the door. I opened up the door to see Eugene, the sun lighting up his mullet.

"Olivia," he said in that always proper voice of his, "good morning. What do you know about solar energy panels?"

"Um, I know that they convert the energy from sunlight into electrical energy, and that's about it. Oh, and you _have _to start calling me Livy now, because the lady who doles out rations is named Olivia and she doesn't have a nickname." I didn't actually know if that was true or not, I just wanted Eugene to use the name everyone else used.

Eugene gave me a curt nod. "I am in search of someone to be of assistance. It seems the panels currently here in Alexandria are in need of repair."

"Well, I think I just showed I don't know that much about it."

Eugene shrugged. "You may not know a lot, but you're also the only person who doesn't have a job to do today. So it looks like you are my best option, Oli—Livy."

I raised my eyebrows when he almost used my full name again, then gave him a smirk and a nod when he corrected himself.

"How do you know I won't totally suck and ruin it all?" I asked. Eugene seemed perplexed by this.

"There is always a margin for human error, however, you seem bright and it is simpler than most people would think. Plus you have much smaller hands, which will be a huge benefit, as mine have proven too big to work with some of the pieces.

I shrugged and smiled. "Okay, sure, Eugene. I don't have anything else to do. Can we stop by Aaron's house, though? So I can tell Daryl where I'll be?"

Eugene nodded and turned on his heel to lead the way to Aaron and Eric's house. I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile. The guy was odd, but I liked him. I always got a kick out of talking to him, and he was really trying to right the wrongs he'd done by lying about knowing a cure.

Several of Alexandria's solar lights were not working. None of the residents had yet figured out what was wrong with them. When Deanna caught wind that Eugene was knowledgeable about science, she'd set him up with the task of fixing them.

I didn't learn a damn thing about solar energy or how it worked, mostly because Eugene almost always used words most of us had never heard of. My helping came in the form of just following any instructions Eugene threw my way, but in the end, it was pretty useless.

"We're going to have to find new parts. Thank you for trying, Livy, but I'm going to have to talk to Deanna and see what kind of resources we are working with in the surrounding areas."

With that, my half-day stint of being a solar engineer was done with. We parted ways, Eugene going in search of Deanna and me going back to Aaron's garage.

I found Daryl laying on his stomach, his head angled upward as he worked on a bottom part of the bike. I knew even less about motorcycles than I did solar panels.

"Do you like your new toy?" I asked, stepping over Daryl and sitting on crossed legged on the concrete floor beside him.

"She ain't gonna be as pretty as the bike I had at the prison, but she'll work."

The pieces Aaron had collected came from various different makes and models of bikes. The one Daryl was constructing from those pieces was a hodge-podge, no continuity or style to it. But like he said, the most important thing was if it would work.

"When do you think you'll have it running?"

Daryl stood up and dusted off his front. Then, he walked in a slow circle around the bike, his blue eyes quickly scanning over every bit of it. Once his surveying was done, he reached a hand out to pull me up.

"Right about now, I reckon."

"Like, _now_ now?" I asked, completely shocked. He'd said it wouldn't take long to fix the bike, but I didn't expect him to get it done in one morning.

"Yeah, c'mon," Daryl sat down on the bike's seat and motioned for me to follow. I gingerly sat behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I'd done this plenty of times at the prison, but I'd never had a reason to question that bike.

Not that I didn't think Daryl was capable of building a bike. I think it's a natural reaction, being wary of a bike that was built in a handful of hours.

"You ready?" Daryl asked, putting the kickstand up with his foot and turning the bike toward the open garage door.

"Yeah, let's do it," I answered, but Daryl must have known I was worried because I felt his back shake a little with a laugh.

And of course he started the bike with no warning, giving it a lot of gas so that I went shooting out of the garage quickly. Daryl took the bike onto the street of our new suburban home, driving it in a circle so that it ended back at Aaron's garage. Even though it was a short drive, I was a little concerned the whole time that the bike would fall apart underneath us.

That didn't happen, though. Daryl had built a solid bike, even if it was built incredibly fast.

Aaron was standing on the porch when we returned, a surprised look on his face. He'd taken time off from any kind of work to tend to Eric.

"I thought I heard it. I can't believe you're already done with it, Daryl."

Daryl only shrugged. "You'd done a lotta work on it already."

"This is great!" Aaron said, his confusion turning to a beaming smile.

I smiled back at Aaron while Daryl gave a half-hearted nod. "We're gonna go out huntin', if ya want anything."

"Some fresh meat would be nice, if you manage to get anything. But don't go out of your way for us. There's been a lot of walkers in the woods lately, as you saw yesterday."

Daryl and Aaron were such unlikely friends, but I could tell Daryl really liked the guy.

We headed first to the armory. Somehow, probably just because he refused to part with it, Deanna had let Daryl keep his crossbow rather than placing it in the armory. I was unarmed other than my knife, though. My gun had been taken when we first got to Alexandria.

Since we were going to the woods, though, no one minded giving me a gun. The general consensus was that outside the walls, it was a good idea to be armed. But inside the walls, it was frowned upon.

I thought this was foolish. How would people defend themselves if someone made it over or through the walls?

Of course I took _my _gun from the armory, returning it to the holster I'd strapped to my leg that morning. I felt better with its weight against my thigh.

Out in the woods, we _did_ get a rabbit for Aaron and Eric. But the hunting was more like an afterthought. Daryl had only said we'd go hunting to get me away from the potential eavesdropping that could go on in Alexandria.

"Livy, c'mere." Daryl had strayed off to kill a walker, but now he was waving me over.

"What's up?" I asked. I didn't catch on immediately why he would want me to look at a walker. I'd seen plenty; I had killed plenty.

"Look at its forehead," he said, moving the walker closer to me. He had a hold of its shirt, holding it up. In its forehead, a _W_ was carved.

"That's weird," I said, my memory starting to jog at the sight of it. "Know something else weird? Maggie found a walker in a car trunk not too long before we came here. It was tied up, the person probably died in the trunk."

"Somethin's going on out here."

"Do you think any of them know about it?" By them, I meant the Alexandrians. Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, they don't have a clue. Not even their freakin' runners have a clue. Only Aaron does, and he don't know anything about it. I already asked him."

How could these people be so unaware? They didn't even know what was going on right outside their walls. Hell, half the residents still thought the military would be coming to help any day now.

"They all need a wakeup call," I grumbled. All around us, I could hear the clumsy, crunching footsteps of walkers.

Daryl still had a hold of the walker with the _W_ carved in its forehead. Looking at it made a chill run down my spine. Why? Why would someone do that? Were the _W_'s made before or after the person died?

There were too many unsettling questions attached to the whole thing.

"Let's see if we can get something before we have to go back in. Aaron wasn't lyin', these woods are full of walkers."

And we did. We got something for ourselves and for Aaron and Eric, as well as setting traps to check the next day so everyone else would have fresh meat, too.

It was nice to be in the woods with Daryl, in his element. The _W_ on that walker's forehead was still in my mind, though. I kept a tight hold on Daryl's hand as we walked, anxious to not be separated from him.

"I have a bad feeling about this," I whispered to him as we approached the gate. Daryl nodded in return. As soon as we were back in the walls, we didn't say another word about it.


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six

**_Chapter Thirty-Six_**

* * *

It only took about a week in Alexandria for the sleepless nights to start for me. Since we were off the road, and by all means the safest we had been in a long time, a lot of intrusive thoughts started making their way into my head.

I was thinking about the four people I had killed. And the fact that I only felt bad about one of the four. I didn't want to wake Daryl up, so I was laying as still as possible. But I guess Daryl must have known I was awake.

He rolled over, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him.

"Why aren't ya sleepin', Livy?" Daryl asked, his voice slurred with sleep.

"Because I'm thinking," I told him, rolling to face him. In the dark, I felt Daryl's lips on my forehead. Still being held by sleep, Daryl was freer with his affection.

"But you should be sleepin'."

I wrapped myself around him, nuzzling my face into his chest.

"I've killed four people, Daryl," I murmured against his skin.

"Shit, darlin', I've killed more than that." I could feel his fingers tangling in my hair.

"I only feel bad about killing one of them, though. Do you feel bad about killing any of them?"

He was quiet for a moment. I listened to the sound of his breath and his heat beating against my cheek.

"No," he finally said. "I don't feel bad about any of them. I don't think you should, either."

"I don't feel bad about the girl from Terminus. They were terrible people who didn't deserve to live, not even in the apocalypse. I don't feel bad about Joe's people either, 'cause they were going to kill you if I didn't kill them. I only feel bad about that one woman at the prison. But I don't know if that's because she was the first one or because those people were brainwashed."

"Brainwashed or not, those people were the reason the Governor was able to kill Hershel."

Daryl's voice was different now. Harsher, because he was fully awake, and mad to add to that.

"I don't feel bad about killin' any of those people. Or the ones at Terminus, or that claimin' prick. And I really don't feel bad for shootin' the stupid bitch that killed Beth right between the eyes."

Daryl began to sit up, and since I was tangled up with him, I was forced to sit up, too. I ended up situated on Daryl's lap. In the dark, Daryl took his face between his hands and lowered his face so that we were level with each other.

His eyes were bleached of color in the dark, looking silvery instead of blue. They were hard like steel as he spoke.

"You shouldn't feel bad, Livy. You can't feel bad. If you wanna live, if you want me or Carl or Judith or anyone else to live, _you can't feel bad._ If you want the people you care about to live, you have to kill."

"I know," I breathed out in a whisper.

"What would have happened if you wouldn't of killed that lady that was with the Governor?"

"She would have killed me." It was the truth.

"Yeah, she woulda killed you. And probably more people, but she didn't because you stopped her. Wanna know what woulda happened if I hadn't given up? If I killed the Governor? Merle, Hershel, Beth. They'd all be alive, Livy. You have to kill, or _your_ people die."

There wasn't a change in his voice. It was too dark for me to see much more than his eyes. But something made me feel that Daryl was crying. The only move he'd made was to drop his hands from my face to my shoulders.

I reached my hand up to his face and, just like I expected, his cheek was wet.

"Oh, Daryl," I said, my heart breaking inside my chest. "None of those are your fault."

I kissed him on the lips and then wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling me towards him so that his head rested against my shoulder. I stroked his too-long hair. He didn't make a noise, but I could feel the tears against the bare skin of my shoulder.

Eventually we laid back down, and fell back to sleep. In the morning, the whole thing had the hazy quality of a dream in my memory. I woke up before Daryl, finding myself trapped in the hold of his arms while his head rested on my chest.

I didn't want to wake him up, even though I knew he needed to go to Aaron's house. They were due for a short run, and that was the day they had chosen to go. But I didn't want him to. I didn't want to face the world, to face Alexandria. I just wanted to stay in bed with Daryl Dixon, because I was pretty positive I loved him.

But eventually the stupid alarm clock went off, and Daryl picked his head up and grumbled at it as he turned it off. Then he sat up, rubbing his face with his back to me. I studied the tattoos and the scars on his back while he woke up.

I stayed in bed while he started to get dressed.

"Being lazy this mornin'?" he asked, leaning over the bed to kiss me.

"Just a little bit," I replied. "Abraham and the construction crew are almost done with the area Deanna wants me to farm, so I'm gonna have to do real work soon. Might as well enjoy being lazy while I can."

Daryl shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots. I rolled myself closer to him.

"Hey," I said, obnoxiously getting in his way by putting my head in his lap. "No dying out there."

A smirk came over his face as he smoothed some curls out of my face. "Nah, darlin'. We don't die."

* * *

"And then, Glenn said that Nicholas guy just _bailed_! Didn't follow the plan at all, got himself out of the revolving doors and left Glenn and Noah to die."

I was lying in bed with Daryl, my head resting against his shoulder as I told him about all the things he missed while he was out on a run with Aaron.

"Did Glenn kill him?" Daryl asked.

"You know he didn't. That's not Glenn."

"No, but he should've."

Nicholas was obviously a coward. He left Aiden, Glenn, and Noah all for dead and only Glenn made it out alive. He couldn't be trusted, but he also couldn't be killed.

"We can't just kill Alexandrians," I whispered to him. "He's weak. He'll get killed eventually because he isn't made to survive."

"Idiots are dangerous. He'll end up takin' other people down with him when he goes."

I couldn't argue with that. Nicholas had already caused two deaths just in the time we had been in Alexandria. Who knew how many more he was responsible for beforehand?

"Tara's hurt, too. She's in the infirmary. Head trauma for sure, but no one knows how bad."

"Hey," Daryl said suddenly, sitting up so that I was forced to go with him. "C'mere."

It was still fairly early in the evening. The sun hadn't yet set, so there was still light in our house. We didn't use the electric lights anyway, but Deanna had actually put a short hold on electric use until Eugene could replace the bum solar lights that had cost Aiden and Noah's lives.

Daryl led me into the living room. He and Aaron hadn't found any people—they didn't go far, they were mostly testing Daryl's bike—but they had found a few odds and ends. Clothes for Judith, who was quickly outgrowing hers; a few more rounds of bullets, which we always needed; a massive beehive which they planned to smoke so they could collect honey.

"Forgot to give these to you earlier." Out of his bag, Daryl pulled a pair of black and pink running shoes. "Now you don't have to go runnin' around barefooted anymore."

A light blush bloomed across Daryl's cheeks as I hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek.

"We're going out again, for longer, in a couple of days," Daryl said, still holding me in his arms.

"How long?" I asked, tipping my head back to look at him. I could feel Daryl's shrug.

"Few days, I reckon."

"But you'll be here for a little while?" Daryl nodded.

"Since all that shit happened with Glenn's group, Aaron wants to ask around and see if there's anything we need to get while we're out."

"Weeeell," I said, drawing out the word as an idea popped into my head. "As long as you're home, we might as well enjoy it."

I smirked at him and raised my eyebrows, glancing toward our bedroom door.

Daryl chuckled and muttered, "Woman," before pressing his mouth to mine.

* * *

The night before Daryl and Aaron were to set out on another expedition, Aaron and Eric came over for dinner. All of the frozen and preserved foods in Alexandria made it easy to make food, especially when you threw in Daryl's hunting and foraging.

"This is really good," Eric said, picking up another bite of meat from his plate. "What is it?"

I glanced over at Daryl, unsure if we should tell Eric what animal the meat had come from. But obviously Daryl didn't have the same reservations that I did.

"Raccoon," Daryl answered nonchalantly.

"Oh," Eric said, looking a little shocked. Aaron smirked at him, and I think he must have taken Eric's hand or something under the table because his hand moved. "That's interesting. I thought I had this pretty well pegged for beaver. We've eaten a few of those before."

Daryl shrugged before spearheading a carrot with his fork. "Protein is protein to me."

"I'm excited for y'all to bring honey back," I told Aaron. Eric started nodding, his mouth full with another bite of raccoon. As soon as he swallowed he was talking.

"Isn't wild honey the best? Oh, I just love it," Eric enthused. "I've been trying to convince Aaron to bring some bees. We have room for a colony."

"Livy's allergic to bees," Daryl said, his mouth full. I was surprised he remembered, it was so long ago that I had told him that. It made me happy, my heart feeling brighter in my chest.

"You are?" Aaron asked. I nodded.

"Like, deathly allergic. My throat will close up if I'm stung."

"You need to tell Pete, so your name can go on the list. We have a few EpiPens in the infirmary. They're probably passed their expiration date by now, but something is better than nothing, right?"

I nodded. I had an EpiPen back before the world ended, but thankfully I had never had to shove it into my thigh.

I liked hanging out with Aaron and Eric. I think they felt more comfortable with our group than they did their own people.

Daryl and Aaron left before the sun was up the next morning, even earlier than I got up to run. That was okay, though. I had a lot of work to do. Abraham's construction crew had finally cleared the place Deanna wanted me to start planting the farm in.

I hadn't seen Deanna around much, which was understandable. Aiden had been her son, and I was sure she wasn't taking kindly to her death. I just wondered if there would be any kind of reprimanding for Nicholas.

Besides Deanna, Aaron, and Eric, I had not talked with a lot of Alexandrians. I was not assigned a job where I would work with them, either. The farm Deanna wanted me to plant was a solo act, so it is entirely safe to say I was not aware of, or expecting, the things that were about to unfold.

We had only been in Alexandria maybe two weeks.

The farm land butted up against the area where the construction crew was still working. I went over after my run, not bothering to change clothes since I was just going to get sweaty again.

Abraham waved to me from the cab of a backhoe.

"I tilled the dirt for you. It was gonna be way too much to do by hand," he called down to me.

I gave him a thumbs up and a smile. "Thanks!" I yelled up to him.

I thought I was going to have to till it myself, so I'd gone over early in the day. Since Abraham had taken care of it, I decided to go to the other Olivia and get the seeds.

On my walk to Olivia's house, I saw Deanna and Rick talking. Well, arguing would have been a better word for it. I was too far away to hear anything they were saying, but I had seen Rick Grimes argue plenty of times before, and that is definitely what he was doing.

I didn't think anything of it, though. I went and got the seeds, returning to the land Abraham had tilled for me.

Then I planted. All day. Until I felt like my back would never straighten again, because I had spent hours bent over, dropping seeds into the little holes I made with my fingers. Just the way Hershel had taught me.

It kind of felt like and homage to Hershel, my skin becoming even darker as it got stained with earth.

I was sitting in the dirt, honestly downing the water I had brought with me, when I heard the commotion.

There was yelling, lots of it, too many voices to even try to figure out what had been going on. I got to the street just in time to see Michonne punch a very much bloodied Rick in the head, knocking him out. A gun fell from his limp hand.

I wasn't sure if the blood was Rick's or the other man's who I _thought_ was the doctor Aaron had been talking about just the night before, but I couldn't be sure. He was covered in even more blood than Rick was.

"What the fuck?" I said under my breath, but Maggie, who I hadn't even realized I was standing beside whispered back to me.

"I'll catch you up later. We might not be here much longer after this stunt."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, just in case not everyone is caught up, I'll only say this: THAT WAS RUDE. And I'm sure the finale will be even ruder. If any of y'all would like to discuss the show or comics (I keep up with both!) just shoot me a message! I hope y'all like this chapter, I tried to provide y'all with a little bit of a lighter, happier one before stuff hits the fan. Thanks for reading! I love all of y'all :)


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven

**_Chapter Thirty-Seven_**

* * *

"He hits Jessie and their children." Those were the words Carol whispered to me as we all walked into Glenn and Maggie's house. "Don't think Pete is innocent."

We crowded into the kitchen that evening. Rosita saw to Rick's injuries—apparently I had missed the part where Rick and Pete went through a window during their fight. I was still covered in dirt, so I was trying hard not to touch any of Glenn and Maggie's furniture.

I think Glenn and Maggie's was the unspoken place to meet because Maggie was Deanna's secretary. I think we all figured she would know more, and, well, we kind of weren't wrong.

"Oh," Maggie said, watching me carefully position myself so that I wouldn't get anything dirty. "You started planting."

She said it with a wobbly kind of smile. I knew she must be thinking about her father.

"Yeah. We'll see how good of a student I was." Even though my hand was still coated in dirt, Maggie slipped hers into mine and gave it a squeeze before turning to everyone else.

I noticed Carl and Judith were not there. I didn't think that was fair. We treated Carl like an adult in so many ways, and then as a child at will—we didn't get to choose which roles, child or adult. The world had already taken that from Carl.

Michonne was also absent. She was standing watch over Rick while he was unconscious.

Maggie took a deep breath. "Deanna is thinking about exiling Rick."

"That ain't a surprise," Abraham muttered under his breath. We knew what had happened with the construction crew, how they almost left a woman to die. And we knew about Nicholas, of course.

I knew where Daryl would stand on this matter. I didn't even have to ask him; without a question, he would not abandon Rick. And neither would Carl.

"If they kick Rick out, Carl will take Judith and follow," I said. Everyone looked over at me.

"You know he would. He's not going to leave his father. And neither would leave Judith."

"Livy's right," Maggie said. "I've already told Deanna as much. She said Carl and Judith could stay, but I told her that wasn't likely to happen."

Glenn ran his hands down his face. There were dark circles under his eyes. I think it was understandable that he wouldn't be getting a lot of sleep, considering what happened to Noah.

"Deanna also said that anyone who wanted to could stay. She said it would be Rick's exile, not our exile."

"That's all she said?" Rosita asked. Tara and Eugene also weren't there; both were in the infirmary, Tara still unconscious and Eugene standing guard.

"She said it wasn't her choice. She said she was going to let it be a vote among all the citizens."

Deanna really was a politician. Hopefully, though, she would stick to her word and not overrule the vote if it turned out in Rick's favor.

I don't think any of us slept much that night. I know my mind was racing as I laid in bed. It felt too big without Daryl there, especially considering the day's events. I just wanted to talk to him, try to make sense of our ever-changing lives.

The next day Glenn came to me while I was taking a break from working, lying in the shade cast by the walls. I was just staring at the clouds, trying to cool off some.

"Hey," he said, the shade growing darker as his shadow fell over me. "Deanna is having a meeting tonight."

"About Rick?" I asked, turning my head to look up at him. Glenn nodded.

"It's some bullshit."

Apparently it had been no secret that Pete wasn't exactly a doting husband and father. But the fact that he had medical training cancelled that out. Gotta love that logic.

"I know," Glenn said softly, and then he left. I turned my gaze back to the sky and let out an exasperated noise.

I should have held true to my word when I told Daryl I was going with him all the time, but no, I wanted to farm because it was sentimental. If I'd been persistent, I could have been outside of the walls, not dealing with the backwards logic of Alexandria.

I decided to stick to my work. I didn't really want to talk to anyone, anyway. I stayed in the field as long as I could, then I went home and showered and waited for Deanna's meeting to roll around.

Rick and Pete weren't in attendance at the meeting.

"I'm sure not a lawyer, but I'm pretty sure the accused are supposed to be at the trial," I muttered to Eugene, who I was sitting beside. One of the Alexandrians, whose name I honestly didn't know, heard me.

"It's not a trial. It's just a panel," she snapped at me. I waited until she turned around and then rolled my eyes. Call it what you want.

"You are correct, though. In the previous American justice system, a person on trial was required to be present for the presentation of evidence so as to have an opportunity to defend themselves either through a lawyer or their own means."

I smiled at Eugene and patted his arm. "I don't know how we made it before we had this encyclopedia you have up in that head of yours."

We were all seated around a bonfire someone had built.

"We're going to start," Deanna announced. We all turned to face her.

"Can we wait?" Maggie asked, stepping forward. "There's still people coming. Glenn, Rick."

I didn't know if Rick would be coming, but it was odd that Glenn wasn't around. I had no idea where he was, but purposefully keeping your face in the dirt all day is a pretty good way to lose track of your friends.

"We're going to start," Deanna said again, completely ignoring Maggie. "It's already dark."

_I thought this was a place to hear each other out,_ I thought to myself. I was already annoyed with the way things were being handled, and the feeling was only getting stronger.

"We're going to talk about what happened," Deanna continued. "Not the fight. Not what precipitated it. We're dealing with that. We're going to talk about one of our constables, Rick Grimes. We're going to talk about how he had a pistol he stole from the armory, about how he pointed it at people, and we're going to talk about what he said."

I didn't even know what Rick had said. I had gotten to the fight too late. What I did know was that I was getting angry that we were discussing Rick when they had been letting a dangerous man live in Alexandria for who knows how long.

"I was hoping he would be here." The condescending look on Deanna's face said she was actually hoping the opposite.

"He said he's coming," Michonne told her, biting her words at Deanna.

"I'm sure he'll be here, and I'm sure we can work this all out" Carol added in a softer tone. I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak with the building anger in my chest.

I was mad enough that I missed the beginning of what Michonne was saying. I guess Deanna had asked if anyone wanted to speak, but I was up in my head, wishing Daryl was there.

"…and after being out there, and then not being how you were out there…it can drive you crazy. Rick just wants his family to live. He wants all of you to live. Who he is, is who you're gonna be… if you're lucky."

And then Carol spoke:

"Rick Grimes saved my life over and over. There's terrifying people out there, and he rescued me from them. People like me, people like us, need people like him. I know what happened last night was scary, and I'm sure he's sorry for that. But maybe we should listen to what he was saying."

When she was done, Carol turned to me with a pointed look. I sighed and stood up.

"I know y'all think you know what the world is like out there, but you don't. You _don't_. Not until you meet people that are more animal than human, people whose only goal is to kill you and take what you have so they might live another day. I can't even tell you how many people we've met like that, but I can tell you this: I would not have made it without Rick."

I turned to look Deanna in the eyes. "I told Deanna when I was interviewed that I would follow Rick anywhere. And I still stand by that."

I wanted her to understand that if Rick was gone, I would be, too.

Abraham stood up as soon as I sat back down.

"Simply put, there is a vast ocean of shit that you people don't know shit about. Rick knows every fine grain of said shit, and then some."

I couldn't stop the smirk that spread across my face at Abraham's word choice.

Next came Maggie's turn.

"My father respected Rick Grimes. Rick is a father, too. He's a man with a good heart, who feels the things he does, the things he has to do. And all of us who were together before this place, no matter when we found each other, we're family now. Rick started that."

Maggie turned to look at Deanna, just like I had. "And you won't stop it. You can't. And you don't want to. This community, you people…that family…_you_ want to be a part of it, too."

"Before we hear from anyone else, I, uh. I would like to share something in the spirit of transparency. Father Gabriel came to see me the day before yesterday and he said our new arrivals can't be trusted, that they were dangerous, that they would put themselves before this community. And not one day later, Rick seemed to demonstrate all the things Father Gabriel said."

Well, if I had been mad before, I was seething then. If it hadn't been for us, Gabriel would have died in the forest. _We _saved _him_.

"I had hoped Gabriel would be here tonight."

"I don't see him here, Deanna." Jessie, Pete's wife, spoke up. "So you're just saying what someone said. Did you tape him?"

I hadn't ever talked to Jessie before, but she instantly got my respect that night.

"He's not here," Maggie backed Jessie up.

"Neither is Rick," Deanna snapped, and this time I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Excuse me," Maggie said, and she turned to leave.

"Okay, but _how_ are we supposed to know Gabriel really said that?" I asked, no longer able to bite my tongue. "Pretty much everyone here was a witness to the fight. That's undeniable evidence. But only _you_ supposedly heard Gabriel say we were dangerous. That wouldn't hold in a court of law where _you_ weren't judge, jury, and executioner."

Deanna turned to look at me. I met her glare evenly.

Another man stood to speak. He was an Alexandrian.

"I just want to keep my family safe, you know? And I don't even know what that means anymore, but if it means that we've got to get rid of—"

But he was cut off. He didn't get to finish his thought, because Rick appeared with blood covering his face and a walker slung over his shoulder. He threw it down in front of us. Some lady screamed.

Rick was breathing heavily. It took him a moment to catch his breath.

"There wasn't a guard on the gate. It was open."

"I asked Gabriel to close it," Deanna's son, Spencer, said.

"Go!" Deanna barked at him. Spencer ran off.

"I didn't bring it in," Rick said, stepping towards the group of people. "It got inside on its own. They always will—the dead _and _the living because we're in here, and the ones out there, they'll hunt us. They'll find us. They'll try to use us. They'll try to _kill_ us. But we'll kill them. We'll survive. I'll show you how."

I wasn't sure if those were the right words to say to these people. I mean, we'd been telling them for the whole time we were in Alexandria that they weren't prepared for what was out there, but they hadn't listened to us yet. Still, that didn't stop Rick from turning his attention to Deanna and her husband Reg.

"I was thinkin'…I was thinkin', how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives? But I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna change. I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I'm sorry for not saying it _sooner_. You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be. Luck runs out."

The Governor, Terminus…they had taught us that. Never to trust luck. Alexandria hadn't had those lessons yet.

"You're not one of us."

Pete's words tore our attention away from Rick. He looked crazed, carrying a sword I soon recognized as Michonne's. I felt my eyes widen as I glanced at her. I knew she wasn't carrying it anymore—though she'd been allowed to keep it—but I didn't think she'd leave it somewhere someone else could get it.

"You're not one of us!" Pete screamed. I think everyone in our group tensed up, ready to come to Rick's aid in that moment, while the Alexandrians backed away in fear.

Except Reg. He bravely went towards Pete.

"Pete, you don't want to do this," Reg tried to reason.

"Get the hell away from me, Reg." Pete shied away from Reg's touch, but Reg continued to try to stop him.

"Pete, just stop."

"_Get away from me_."

Deanna began calling to Reg, but she didn't approach the two men. She only repeated Reg's name, trying to draw his attention.

I was completely focused on the whole thing. As Pete struggled against Reg, he lifted Michonne's sword. I'm not sure if Pete really intended to do it or not, but with as he pushed against Reg, Pete sliced into his throat.

There was a collective gasp as blood began to spray from Reg's wound. Deanna screamed. It was too deep, and Alexandria's resident doctor was out of his mind as well as being the one to inflict the damage. There was no hope for Reg. He crumpled and bled out in seconds as Deanna clung to him.

Abraham threw Pete down on the ground, pinning him so he couldn't move. I hung back, standing with Carol and Eugene. I glanced at Carol, but she was staring at Pete. If you didn't know her, I don't think anyone would have noticed the way she was shaking ever so slightly.

"It's him!" Pete screamed, struggling against Abraham's weight. "This is him!"

Yeah, because Rick was the one who just killed Deanna's husband, Pete.

I think something changed in Deanna at that moment. She turned her teary face up to Rick, Reg still in her arms.

"Rick…do it."

And with that, Rick turned to Pete and shot him in the head with his stolen armory gun. There were screams after the gunshot, but not one of them was Jessie's.

We were all so focused on the deaths before us that none of us noticed Aaron and Daryl appear at the gate, a stranger between them.

"Rick?" The strange man asked.

I caught Daryl's eye. He glanced down at Reg and Pete's bodies and then flicked his gaze back up to me. I shrugged. _It happens._ Daryl didn't really look too surprised anyway.

I gestured my head towards the stranger. _Later_, Daryl mouthed and I nodded.

That was a turning point, I think. Alexandria was never really Deanna's again after that night.

* * *

**A/N: **Some scenes/dialogue taken from AMC's The Walking Dead season 5, episode 16 _Conquer. _No copyright infringement intended.

Sorry for the long, mostly Daryl-less chapter! Fear not, I have big plans for season 6. Also, if you've finished the season, I'd love to hear opinions on the finale! As always, reviews are appreciated but certainly not required :)


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight

**_Chapter Thirty-Eight_**

* * *

Reg and Pete died that night, but Tara woke up. It was like a weird apocalyptic trade: two lives for one. I was honestly glad the two lives lost were Alexandrians and the one saved was Tara.

Not that Reg deserved to die that way. He was the epitome of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Abraham was kind enough to make sure he didn't turn. He had to fight Deanna for Reg's body, though. She was wailing and wouldn't let go, but finally she released him to Abraham.

Everyone filed out of the little courtyard Deanna had held the meeting in after that.

Rick and Morgan went off together to talk, and Daryl went with them. Morgan was new; no one but Rick, Michonne, and Carl knew anything about him. Daryl was being cautious. Aaron returned home to Eric, who was still decommissioned due to his ankle.

I went home and waited for Daryl, knowing I would get my answers once he came home. He was quiet when he walked in. I was laying on the couch in the living room, waiting for him to return.

Silently he took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

"C'mon. I wanna show you something."

Daryl and I filled each other in on recent events while sitting on our back porch. There were little bugs Daryl had called 'lightning bugs' flying around outside. They lit up yellow and hovered around like low hanging stars. Daryl was a little offended I didn't know what a lightning bug was, I think. He had mumbled something along the lines of "First tornados, now this" as he'd led me out the door.

Aaron, Daryl, and Morgan, as I'd learned the strange man's name was, had actually heard and seen most of what happened with Reg and Pete. Of course, they caught the very end when Rick shot Pete in the head. I was telling Daryl what started the whole thing.

"...and then Michonne knocked Rick out by punching him in the head. It was kinda cool, actually," I said, passing Daryl the apple we were sharing.

"I knew 'bout the gun. Carol has one, too. They tried to give me one. I didn't take it."

"Why not?" I had to wait for Daryl to chew and swallow his bite before I got an answer. And then I only got a shrug.

I waited for a second and Daryl shrugged again. "I dunno. I didn't want it."

It was a fair enough answer.

"So what'd y'all do? Besides find Rick's long-lost friend?"

"Found a whole helluva lot of walkers with W's carved in their foreheads."

Daryl told me about finding some storage sheds with surprise cargo inside.

"Figured we might as well check, and when we opened one, we set off some kind of walker trap. Must've been a hundred at least. And they all had them W's carved in their heads."

Remembering the exceptionally creepy walker from the woods, and multiplying it by a hundred in my head, sent a shiver down my spine big enough that Daryl wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

"Why would someone set a walker trap?" I wondered out loud, taking another bite of the apple.

I felt Daryl shrug. "Dunno. But me an' Aaron woulda died if it weren't for Morgan. We tried to hole up in a car, but the walkers had already seen us. They knew where we were, and we didn't have a way to distract them."

Being in a car with a lot of walkers around was always a catch-22. On the one hand, you had protection and a place to hide. On the other, it was a confined space and it could only hold so much walker weight of the walkers knew you were in it.

"Were you trying to die on me out there?" I joked. Daryl blew his breath. I could feel the heat of it on my hair.

It really did make my heartsick to think of the danger Daryl had been in. I didn't know anything about this Morgan person yet, but I already liked him.

"Not on purpose."

I laid my head on his shoulder.

"These bugs are weird."

"I used to catch them when I was little." This piqued my interest. Daryl rarely talked about life before the dead.

"Oh really?"

Daryl began twirling my hair around his finger as he talked. "Yeah. I used to catch 'em in Mason jars. I'd keep the jars in my room for a day or two and then let the bugs go."

"I used to catch these lizards called horny toads in Mason jars. My dad showed me one time that if you make a horny toad mad enough, they'll shoot blood out of their eyes."

"Oh, but my lightning bugs are weird," Daryl teased, making me laugh despite the fact we'd just been talking about very dark things.

"We just had more intense creatures in New Mexico. Living in the desert is rough, okay?"

I did like the little bugs, even if I did think they were weird. It was like sitting in the night sky with them flitting about in the dark.

I took a last bite of the apple and gave what was left to Daryl. He was the only person I knew who would eat an apple core.

"Oh, were y'all there for the part where Deanna said Gabriel told her that we were all dangerous and not worthy of living in Alexandria?"

"Nah," Daryl said, his mouth full of apple. "Must've missed that part."

"I don't know if it's true," I said with a shrug.

"Wouldn't put it past him. Man's a coward. He fits in here better than we do."

Well, Daryl wasn't wrong. When he finished the apple, he untangled himself from me and stood up. Daryl offered me his hand to help me up, and I slipped mine into his. He didn't let go once I was on my feet.

We stood for a moment, hand in hand, watching the lightning bugs play in the night air. Daryl kissed me on the temple and I turned towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"If you're gonna be playing with weird walker traps out there with Aaron, I might have to find a way to keep you in here."

Daryl laughed. "You think you could keep me in these walls, darlin'?"

"I bet I could find a way."

It wasn't until we were lying in bed, my head on his chest, that Daryl told me the rest.

"I didn't want anyone to hear," he started, his voice in his chest vibrating against my cheek. "Morgan met some people, livin' people, with W's carved into their foreheads."

"And they set those traps?"

"Must've. Morgan said they wanted to kill him. Told him right to his face, that they would kill him and take his stuff for theirs."

"Did he kill them?"

Daryl scoffed. "Nah. Morgan told us he believes all life is precious. He doesn't kill the living."

That made me think of the people we had met. The ones we'd killed. I couldn't say any of _their_ lives had been precious.

Not the Governor's.

Not Joe or his merry band of Claimers.

Not the residents of Terminus.

"That's a stupid mindset to have."

"Ain't you tellin' the truth, darlin'."

After the night Reg and Pete died, a lot changed. Deanna was still _technically_ in charge. But it was obvious she was the mouthpiece and Rick was running the show again. That was fine with me. I was more comfortable with Rick leading.

Deanna was the one to give the official announcement that, for the time being, Aaron and Daryl would no longer be looking for people. But Rick was the one who made that decision.

Which was okay, actually. We were soon to have bigger issues.

Eventually Rick explained that he'd met Morgan in the early days of the outbreak. They helped each other, but then Rick didn't see him again until we were all living at the prison. He, Michonne, and Carl had found Morgan, but he wasn't in his right mind according to Rick.

They couldn't convince Morgan to come to the prison, so they parted ways again. Rick didn't expect to ever see Morgan again. Apparently Morgan is where we got the sharpened-log walker traps we'd used at the prison.

Deanna told Gabriel and a man named Tobin not to bury Pete in the walls of Alexandria. But it was an order that came from Rick, first.

Instead, Rick and Morgan took Pete's body out to the woods. While they were out there, they found a _massive_ horde of walkers. The biggest either had ever seen. They also found Pete's kid, Ron, who had stupidly followed them into the woods.

That horde, though. That damned horde.

See, here's the things about walkers: they're dumb. They will follow any sound or sight that catches their attention.

You get enough walkers to fall into a basin where they can collectively growl and snarl, and they're gonna make a lot of noise. Other walkers are going to hear it, follow it, fall into said basin—and so on and so forth. Which is how the horde came to be.

That damned horde led us to a meeting in Deanna's house.

"My team, we saw it early on, back when we were on one of those first scouts to find out what was around here. There was a camp at the bottom. The people there must have blocked the exits with one of those trucks back when everything started to go bad. They didn't make it, they were all roamers. Maybe a dozen of them."

This information came from a man named Heath, who was a runner from Alexandria who actually knew his stuff. I could tell he wasn't like Aiden and Nicholas had been. He wasn't dumb. He'd been on a weeks-long run when we arrived in Alexandria, making a return the day after Pete and Reg died.

The horde inspired Rick to come up with a plan to get rid of them.

"Now what I'm proposing, I know it sounds risky, but walkers are already slipping through the exits. One of the trucks keeping the walkers in could go off the edge any day now. Maybe after one more hard rain. That exit sends them _here_. East. All of them, right at us. This isn't about _if_ it gives, it's _when_. It's gonna happen. That's why we have to do this soon."

Rick delivered this speech with his face still cut and bandaged from his fight with Pete. It was Deanna's house, but she was a wallflower, staring out the window while Rick led the show.

"This is—I don't have another word—this is terrifying," Carol said, hamming it up for the Alexandrians. Carol's meek and mild performances always made me want to laugh, though I never did. Her acting made the Alexandrians more comfortable around us, because they believed she was like them. If only she knew. "All of it. But it doesn't seem like there's any other way."

One man tried to protest. He proposed we just make the blockage on the exits stronger. Rick shot his suggestion down. And then Deanna spoke.

"We're going to do what Rick says. The plan he's laid out."

Like I said. Deanna was the mouthpiece. Rick was the leader. She would parrot and support anything Rick said after what happened with Reg.

Rick's plan was simple:

Daryl would lead them away from Alexandria on his bike.

"I'll go with him," I'd said immediately, standing up from the window seat Daryl and I were sharing. I looked over at Daryl, who gave me a smirk and a nod.

"Me, too." Sasha said. I was surprised she wanted to go. She hadn't been around much since Bob died, preferring to be a lone-wolf type lookout. "I'll take a car, right next to them. Can't just be them. I'll keep them coming, they keep them from getting sloppy."

"I'll go with her." Abraham spoke up. "It's a long way to white-knuckle it solo."

In addition to us four leading the horde, two teams would be in the forest to help keep control. Watch on the walls would be upped.

Gabriel tried to offer his help, but Rick dismissed him with barely more than a 'no'.

The same man who questioned Rick's plan began spouting off about how no one should follow or trust Rick, but Deanna silenced him.

Killing the walkers wasn't an option. There'd be too many of them, not enough of us. The plan was to lead them away from Alexandria and send them on their merry way.

A wall, not unlike Alexandria's, would be built to keep the walkers more or less contained.

There was supposed to be a dry run, a dress rehearsal. A practice, so everyone was clear how the plan would work.

It was supposed to be a dry run.


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine

**_Chapter Thirty-Nine_**

* * *

The building of the barrier for the Great Walker Parade of Whatever Year it Was ended up being an all-hands on deck affair.

Deanna thought it would be a unifying kind of thing, since everyone was helping. I think it was also supposed to help get people on board with the plan. So many of the Alexandrians were still wary of us, and of Rick's plan to get rid of the walkers.

Everyone was out there, except Judith and Eric. With his bum ankle, Eric was the go-to babysitter while everyone was working on the barrier.

"Here, have some rocks," I said, dumping some of the larger ones into Daryl's wheel barrow. We were collecting rocks, to use behind the barrier. Fortifying and all that.

"Think this'll work?" Daryl asked and I shrugged.

"Sure, if everyone follows the plan."

I was digging a trench with Abraham, and he kept 'accidentally' putting his dirt into my area. While I was taking the rocks to Daryl, Abraham had about half filled my trench with new dirt.

"I'm gonna start throwing mine _on_ you if you don't cut it out."

Abraham smirked, raised his shovel, and dumped it into my trench.

I glared over at him and then turned to Rosita. She was a few feet down from us.

"Rosita, _como se dice _'Abraham's an asshole' _en Español?_"

Rosita, and surprisingly Abraham, laughed.

It was actually kind of fun out there, in the sun. Outside the walls. Doing something productive. I liked Alexandria, but it was hard to get into domesticity after the lives we'd been living.

That barrier was built surprisingly quickly. When you put the Alexandrians to work, and gave them really specific instructions, they actually got stuff done. There was only one complication with the wall, and that was when a group of walkers came out of the woods.

Rick told them what to do: stand your ground, use your shovels. But the Alexandrians were scared still. When it became apparent the Alexandrians weren't going to move, our group handled it.

* * *

The morning of the run, Daryl paid special attention to what I was wearing. He made me sit on the bed, so he could tie strings around the ankles of my jeans, just like he always did to his.

"Why do you do that?" I asked. I'd always noticed, but never thought to ask.

"While you're huntin', it helps to keep things from crawlin' up your pant legs. When you ride a bike, it keeps 'em in place, so you're not gettin' your legs destroyed by the road."

Despite it being a humid day, Daryl made me wear a long sleeve shirt. Then he presented me with a gray leather jacket.

"Road rash again?" I asked, slipping my arms in. He nodded.

"If we fall for some reason, and you're not covered, it ain't gonna be pretty."

"I used to ride your bike with you all the time, and you never made me do this," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I shoulda," Daryl said, standing in front of me and making sure I was up to his inspection.

As a precaution, Deanna allowed us to retrieve our guns from the armory. Mine was back in its holster, and it felt so right.

Before we walked out the door, Daryl picked up my hair—which I'd braided into a tight French braid—and tucked it into the collar of the jacket.

I turned and smiled at him, bouncing forward to kiss him on the mouth before we headed out.

We rode out to our part of Rick's plan on Daryl's bike. The day started out nice, riding behind Daryl with my arms wrapped around his waist. It was nice to be outside the walls, and the early morning sun felt good on my hair and my back.

When we started the ride out, Abraham and Sasha were just a little ahead of us in their car. But Daryl's bike easily went faster than the car, even if it was a smaller car. As we passed them, Abraham stuck his hand out the car window. I reached my hand out and slapped his, smiling at both of them as we passed them.

At the meeting place, which was a dip in the ground that held more walkers than I'd ever seen in one place, Rick started laying out directions.

"This is where it all starts tomorrow. Tobin gets in the truck, opens the exit, and we're off. He heads south, catches up with his team on red, staying on the west side of the road. Daryl gets on his bike…"

It was hard to hear Rick over the collective roar of the walkers not far below us. Then came an even louder creaking sound.

"You see that?" Sasha asked, pointing into the distance. One of the semi-trucks blocking the passage of walkers teetered, the ground beneath it starting to give.

"Oh, shit," I heard Daryl say under his breath. With more creaks and metallic groans, the semi-truck came crashing down.

"It's open!" Rick shouted. "We've got to do this now!"

Everyone sprang into action as Rick instructed us where to go. "Tobin's group, get moving now!"

Daryl and I covered Sasha and Abraham as they climbed into their car. On the bike, we'd be much faster. I wasn't worried about the fact we'd be exposed.

"Follow Daryl to red, let him lead them to the gauntlet!" Rick yelled over the sounds of the walkers. In addition to the makeshift wall, we had also used different colored balloons to mark different areas of our path and plan.

When everyone was getting to where they needed to go and Tobin had moved the truck to allow the walkers to come spilling out, Daryl and I hopped on the bike.

Daryl revved the bike so the walkers would follow the noise. It worked; they front ones made a beeline for us, and the ones behind them followed absently as walkers tend to do.

"You scared?" Daryl asked over his shoulder. "I can feel your heart beatin'."

"I've never seen this many," I told him honestly.

"Aw, don't worry, darlin'. They won't be gettin' us."

I think I probably would have felt better had Maggie and Carol been out there with us. But we couldn't take Carol without blowing her helpless cover. And Maggie…For some reason I wasn't quite sure about, Glenn had insisted Maggie stay at Alexandria.

Instead, for some unknown reason, we had Nicholas of all people out there with us.

"You all have your assignments. You know where to rendezvous." Rick's voice came over our walkie-talkie. "Daryl leads them out. Sasha and Abraham join him at the bottom of the hill. Glenn, you hit us when you take care of the walkers at the tractor place. That's the one thing we gotta get ahead of. Everybody, keep your heads. Just keep on."

We were not going fast. Just enough so that we stayed ahead of the walkers. I was glad I was with Daryl, to help watch his back. There were plenty more walkers than one person could handle on their own.

"We're at red, bottom of the hill," Sasha said over the radio.

"Alright, here comes the parade," Daryl answered, making me laugh despite myself.

We got the walkers to the checkpoint marked by yellow balloons, where Marshall and Redding roads met. There, Rick, Michonne, and Morgan set off flares to catch the walkers' attention and help us lead them around the curve.

So as to keep the walkers' attention, we slowed to a mere crawl. Daryl nodded his head toward me and I got off the bike, walking slowly beside him and waving towards the walkers.

"C'mon!" I told them, thought I doubt they heard me over their own collective noise. "Keep following us. C'mon."

If too many got distracted, and started following something else, we would lose the horde and all of our work would have been for nothing.

Some of them did get distracted, veering off the shoulder off the road.

"Daryl," I shouted over the noise. "Should I reign those back in?"

We couldn't lose too many. But Daryl shook his head. "Nah, stay with me. If it gets worse than that, we'll both go."

Neither of us had to, though, because Abraham hit the ground running out of Sasha's car, following the walkers into the woods.

Still walking backwards, I shrugged at Daryl. "I guess Abraham's got it."

I could barely make out Abraham's excited yells over the walker groans. I watched him kill a few, rile up some others, and lead them back onto the road. That man definitely toed the line between brave and stupid.

I watched anxiously to see if Abraham would need help or not, but he easily made it back into the car with some walkers in tow. They were back on the road, and we were good again.

I kept walking, easily keeping pace with Daryl. We had all slowed considerably, trying to keep the walkers to follow our path diligently. Every so often, I would wave at the walkers or kick some rocks off the road at them. Anything to keep their attention.

Suddenly, there was a loud, droning noise.

"Do you hear that?" I yelled to Daryl. "Is that a horn?"

"Son of a bitch," Daryl muttered, glancing behind him. We watched as tons of walkers broke off from the group, distracted by this loud noise.

"What should we do?" I asked. "They're heading towards home."

The walkers closest to us were still following our lead, but we could easily see all the ones breaking off into the forest.

"Don't try to go after them. There's too many. Just try to keep the ones we still have."

I was scared, but I did what Daryl said. I sighed and turned my attention to the walkers.

"Hey, look at me," Daryl shouted over the noise. I turned back to him. "We're gonna get through this. We don't die."

"We don't die," I repeated to him, trying to smile.

It was our promise to each other, but I wasn't sure if we'd be able to keep it that day.


	41. Chapter Forty

**_Chapter Forty_**

* * *

"Rick!" Daryl yelled into his walkie-talkie when it became obvious to us that the horde was disintegrating. "What's going on back there?!"

"Half of them broke off!" Rick's voice answered "They're going toward Alexandria."

"I'm gonna gas it up and turn back!" Daryl told Rick.

"Can't have that, you keep going."

"You're gonna need our help!"

"We have to keep the herd moving!"

"Not if shit's going down, we don't!"

Their arguing didn't do much good. I knew Daryl had already made up his mind. I was just waiting for a signal to hop on the bike.

It didn't come for a little while. I'd say we had gone about another half mile when Daryl yelled out to Abraham.

"Hey! Have we gone out five miles yet?"

"Give or take some yardage," Abraham answered. "Any particular reason for asking?"

"That next intersection, I'm gonna swing around and Livy and me, we're gonna head back."

"The plan is to go fifteen more," Sasha pointed out.

"Yeah, I'm gonna change that. Five's gonna have to work."

"The magic number is twenty," Abraham insisted. "That's the mission. That's making sure they're off munching on infirm raccoons the rest of their undead lives, instead of any of us."

"You wanna go, we can't stop you." Sasha said. "But without you, they could stop us."

I was going to go wherever Daryl went, and I think they all three knew that. I stayed quiet, keeping pace and walking backwards. But I kept my eyes on Daryl. He was quiet for a minute, and then he motioned with his head towards the back of the bike.

I hopped on behind him just as he told Sasha and Abraham, "Nah. I got faith in ya."

I barely had time to get situated and wrap my arms around him before Daryl took off. I could hear Sasha and Abraham yelling at us, but I couldn't make out their words over the growl of the walkers and the roar of the motor cycle.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" I asked Daryl.

"Rick is gonna need help, he's alone. Sasha and Abraham can handle the walkers."

I couldn't argue with him there, so I didn't try to. We fell into a silent ride for quite a few miles before Rick's voice came over our radio.

First he called out for Glenn, who didn't answer. The silence from Glenn's end made my stomach drop. Then Rick called for Tobin, who _also_ didn't answer.

I was hoping real hard they just dropped their walkie-talkies and nothing bad had happened to them.

"Daryl? Daryl, you there?" Rick called out.

"Yeah, I'm here," Daryl answered.

"Won't be long now. They're almost here. We need them going your way again."

"How 'bout that, Daryl?" Sasha's voice cut in. She sounded sassy, and it made me smirk. "They're gonna be comin' our way."

Daryl ignored her.

"Maybe we should turn back?" I asked. Daryl ignored me, too.

"There's gunfire coming from back home." Rick's voice came back. "We gotta stick with it and hope they can handle it. I think they can. They _have _to. We keep going forward for them. We can't turn back because we're afraid."

"We ain't afraid," Abraham's voice came over the radio.

"_This _is for them," Rick continued. "Going back now, before it's done, that would be for us. The herd has to be almost here."

The radio turned to static for a few seconds before gunfire started coming over the air waves. Instinctively, my arms tightened around Daryl, who reached for his radio.

"Rick!" Daryl yelled, but he was answered with more shots. "Rick!"

When he didn't answer again, Daryl gave the bike more gas to speed it up.

"What do you think that was?" I asked.

"Trouble," Daryl muttered.

Suddenly, Daryl stopped the bike. He tried to get Rick over the radio again, yelling his name. Our only answer was static.

Daryl turned bike around violently and sped off. We were going back the way we had come, retracing our steps to Abraham and Sasha.

We met back up with them in no time. They had made a decent amount of distance between them and the walkers. I waved to Abraham and Sasha, and Abraham flipped me off, so I stuck my tongue out at him.

The distance between us and the walkers was kept larger than before, which meant we were going faster. I didn't want to go what was left of our twenty miles on foot, so I stayed on the bike with Daryl. All was quiet, at least over the walkie-talkie.

No one spoke for what felt like hours. Finally, Sasha's voice came to us over the radio.

"Alright," she said simply.

"That twenty?" Daryl asked.

"It will be. Bridge 62's a mile ahead. We gotta get a good distance between us and them before the turn off."

"So floor it," Abraham added.

I smiled. I liked when we rode fast on the bike, and I knew Daryl's new bike could go much faster than the one he had at the prison. Daryl had built the new bike himself, after all.

"Try to keep up," I teased, leaning over Daryl's shoulder so I could speak into the walkie-talkie.

"Livy, have you _looked _at this car?" Sasha asked with a laugh. "Believe me, we want to get back there, too."

We didn't floor it _quite_ as much as we could have. Daryl stayed comfortably in front of the car as we lead the way to the turnoff that would loop us back to Alexandria.

Around the curve, and we lost the walkers no problem. By all means, we were in the home stretch.

And then the fire fight started.

I didn't see—or hear—anyone until the gunshots started, but they definitely knew about us. I ducked down as much as I could, my heart picking up a wild pace. Sasha and Abraham, at least, had the cover of the car. Daryl and I were exposed.

"Try to keep your head up!" Daryl yelled. I didn't even have time to respond before Daryl had let go of the bike, pushing it out from under us.

We hid the ground with enough force to skid as we landed, but at least we were out of the way of the bullets for a moment. I was very happy for the way Daryl had made me dress, because the leather jacket scraped but did not tear. I couldn't say the same for my jeans; I had road rash up one leg.

Sasha and Abraham kept going, but they were being followed. More of the attention seemed to be on them.

"C'mon, Livy," Daryl said, hauling me up and then setting the bike upright again. We got on quickly and Daryl did floor it. We were being followed, too.

_Oh, God, I hope we're too fast to hit, _I thought to myself, trying to make myself small on the back of the bike.

There was a loud crash up ahead of us. Daryl was following the car that was tailing Abraham and Sasha, which would have been fine were it not for the walkers we encountered around a turn. Now we had guns at our back and walkers trying to tear our flesh.

While Daryl drove, I pushed them away from us. I didn't have time to get my knife out, and we were moving too fast to kill them, anyway.

I couldn't see Abraham and Sasha, but I heard more gunfire—more powerful gunfire. Our guns, the ones Abraham and Sasha had brought with us. They were alive, at least.

Daryl didn't stop. He veered away from the walkers, taking a turn half-hidden in tall grass. We lost one car following us, but another kept the course. He took us down the road, until we were far enough ahead to be hidden from sight from the car, and then he turned off road and into the forest.

"You good?" Daryl asked as soon as we were under the cover of trees.

"I reckon I'll live." The adrenaline was wearing off and I could feel the sting of the road rash.

Once the car passed us, Daryl shot out of the forest and across the road, entering the trees on the other side. Daryl took us deep into the forest before we finally stopped again.

And when we stopped, we fell. Daryl was hurt, too. His leather jacket had _not_ held up to the road as well as mine had, and I could see the blood on his arm through the torn fabric.

We laid on the forest floor trying to catch our breath.

"You good?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he replied. Even though his arm was hurt, I felt his hand take mine.

A noise beside us made Daryl turn his head away from me. It was weak, almost pitiful sounding, but before I even picked my head up to take a look, I knew it was a walker. And it was, a very decomposed, stuck in the ground, helmet-wearing walker.

"Just leave it," Daryl muttered. "It ain't goin' anywhere."

Ignoring the walker, we continued to lay on the ground. I squeezed Daryl's hand. We rested there in the forest, waiting for our hearts to slow into a regular beat and our breath to stop coming in excited gasps.

Laying there on the forest floor would be the last time we rested that day.


	42. Chapter Forty-One

**_Chapter Forty-One_**

* * *

"We can't stay here," Daryl muttered. I figure we'd been laying around for about five minutes. "We gotta move. Put more distance between us and them."

"I know." I didn't much want to get up, but we had to. If not for the reason Daryl stated, then certainly for the fact that there was still a large herd of walkers milling about. We may have led them away, but they didn't have a leader anymore, and no one could say what might happen.

Daryl stood up first and then helped me to my feet. My road rash leg burned in protest as I stood up. I hadn't taken a good look at it yet.

I glanced down to see large holes worn in the thigh of my jeans. It looked plenty deeper than a regular scrape, but not deep enough to see muscle and certainly not deep enough to see bone. I would be fine once it scabbed over.

"C'mon," Daryl said quietly. He picked up his motorcycle and started pushing it. I figured he didn't want to make too much noise, so as not to alert other people as to where we were.

"Tell me when you get tired, and I'll push it for a little while." I knew the bike was heavy, but Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, I got it. Just cover me."

As we walked, I realized that something was not right about the forest we were in. Much of it was dead, charred black—just like that walker we saw when we laid down. But the front of the forest, and all the forest we'd seen earlier that day, that was _not_ burned.

I didn't think it was a forest fire. Left unattended, a forest fire probably could have done more damage than we'd seen. It seemed more like a controlled burn, but who would have the time to do that?

We had to step over several burned-black skeletons and remains as we got deeper into the forest.

Eventually, Daryl got tired of pushing the bike. I knew he would.

"Want me to take over?" I asked, but he was preoccupied. He had _just_ realized that his arm was bleeding when it dripped off his hand. Such a boy thing to do.

I waited while Daryl took off his motorcycle gloves and jacket. Removing the jacket revealed a skinned upper arm and elbow.

Daryl tossed aside his jacket and then bent over the bike.

"We'll go on foot for a while," he said, unclipping our bag from the bike and handing it to me. I slung the strap over my shoulder as Daryl unlatched his crossbow and began inspecting it for damage.

Completely casual, Daryl whispered "Did you hear that?" to me.

Now, I didn't hear anything, but I also didn't have the hunter's instinct that Daryl did. I shook my head. Daryl pulled some foliage over the bike to hide it. When he stood back up, he put a finger to his lips and then motioned with his head for me to follow him.

On quiet feet, I walked behind Daryl. He had his crossbow raised and ready to shoot, and I had my gun out of my holster.

We came upon two women, both of whom instantly put their hands up to show they were unarmed. One was blonde, the other brunette. Both were dirty. They looked the same as we had not long ago, when we were living primarily outside.

"You found us, okay?" The brunette woman said, her voice shaking. "Here we are. We _earned_ what we took."

This is honestly all I remember before there was a sudden, sharp pain in my head, followed by darkness.

* * *

Later, Daryl would tell me that he _did_ remember some of the night after we were knocked out. He woke up briefly for a few times. He remembered a campfire and seeing someone place his crossbow in a bag.

I did not wake up. That whole chunk of time is just darkness to me. It wasn't until Daryl woke me the next morning that I even stirred again.

When I did wake up, it was only because Daryl was nudging me. I was slumped against him, and it was hard to pull myself upright because my hands were tied together at the wrists.

"Get up," I heard a voice say. It wasn't Daryl's. I looked up to see a blonde man with a sharp nose staring at us. My head was pounding and my body felt fuzzy.

"Hey!" The man almost shouted, taking hold of my hurt leg and giving it a shake. I sucked my breath in, instantly awake. "Get up!"

The blonde man pointed a gun in Daryl's face. "We're movin'."

"Here's the thing," the blonde man continued. I was watching Daryl carefully, the gun just inches from his forehead. "You don't say shit and I don't kill _her_."

He swung the gun and pointed it right between my eyes.

"We ain't who you think," Daryl said calmly. I was glad he was calm, because the gun now trained on me was making me sweat.

"Say something else," the blonde man said, moving the gun closer to my head. He put his finger on the trigger. "Go ahead."

The blonde man roughly hoisted me up by my bound wrists and then did the same to Daryl.

"Follow them," he instructed, pointing to the two women from earlier. We walked carefully, very aware of the man behind us.

We walked in a single file line through the forest. Brunette woman, blonde woman, Daryl, me, blonde man. I was not unaware of the gun the blonde man had trained on me as we made our way through the forest.

"Here, drink the rest." I heard one of the women say. I couldn't see which, though. I was afraid to do anything more than stare at the black fabric of the shirt Daryl was wearing and follow him.

"We should save it," one of them replied.

"We'll find some more," the first woman insisted. "Drink. You're supposed to stay hydrated."

I wondered if that was just basic survival technique or if something was wrong with one of the women.

While I was looking dutifully at Daryl's back, I noticed he was looking towards the ground. I did the same, glancing down to see charred remains of _something_ along with scorched-black earth. The fire in that forest must have been massive.

"Have it," the dark-haired woman said, suddenly addressing me and Daryl. She tried to give Daryl the bottle, but even if we were going to willingly take it, I don't know how she expected us to with our hands tied.

"Drink," the blonde man said sternly, taking the bottle and putting it in Daryl's face. "We don't need you two falling down."

Daryl glared at the blonde man and took the bottle of water. He drank half of it before turning to give me the rest.

"If they find us, maybe we give you to them, they let us call it even. See, we're reasonable people. Everybody's got their code. You feel you gotta kneel? That's fair enough. We don't." The blonde man was lecturing at us.

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him we didn't know who 'they' were and that we didn't 'kneel' to anyone. But I also knew that would be a danger to myself and Daryl, so instead I appeased myself with shooting him dirty looks.

"Let's go," the man said, roughly tearing the empty water bottle out of my hand. Then he grabbed the back of Daryl's shirt collar, shoving him forward.

For whatever reason, he left me be.

"Best keep up, or I'll shoot ya," he told me as I kept pace beside him and Daryl. As we walked we passed charred skeletons. How hot did the fire burn, to reduce people or walkers to skeletons?

"I can't believe we're back," the blonde woman said, looking around the forest like she was amazed by it.

"It's not home anymore, but it's better than where we were," the dark-haired woman told her.

"This is a pit-stop," the man told them. "We pick up Patty, nothing more than that."

Patty. The only name we had didn't belong to any of the people here.

"How'd you do it?" the blonde woman asked. _They _had burned this forest? Why, when being quiet and staying hidden were two of the keys to survival, would you burn a forest and call so much attention to yourselves?

"Did you see where we left the truck?" The man asked her.

"Mhmm."

"We opened the valve and drove all the way in from Farm View Road, ran it from the tree line until we got to the pavement. Lit up a matchbook from the Sweet Water and dropped it in on the trail, and we just ran for the car. Got in, and the dead ones were there, just beating on the hood, and then _boom! _Knocked 'em on their asses and I took an ax to each one."

I was listening carefully to him talk. Whether he realized it or not, he was giving us information. Farm View Road, the Sweet Water. I didn't know what those were right then in the forest, but we had maps in Alexandria, and as I fully planned on Daryl and I both making it back home, I could look at the maps and see what area that was.

"We just watched it go up," the dark-haired woman added to his story. "No more moans, no more of that wailing. It was just the fire, just burning 'em all away."

"Y'all did all this?" Daryl asked, surprising all of us I think. I mean, blonde guy was pretty clear with his directions: Daryl talks, I get shot. I was pretty sure it was also I talk, Daryl or I get shot, so I was staying quiet just to be safe.

But instead, the dark-haired woman answered his question.

"It was right at the start. Everything stopped, the TV, the radio. We were here, the forest was _full _of them, and the other ones in town, they were drawn to it. Just walked right into the flames. We got most of them, thought we ended it for us. She was in D.C.," she added, motioning to the blonde woman.

"We thought everyone was fighting them wherever they were."

"Yeah, we thought that was what everybody was doin'," the blonde man said. He had his hand on Daryl's back and himself positioned between us. "Fighting it, that we would all win together. We were stupid."

As he talked, he kept walking forward, leaving Daryl and I behind. We glanced at each other and both stopped walking.

"Y'all don't think you're being stupid right now?" Daryl asked. The man pulled his gun back out of his pocket and stuck it in my face. I glared at him over the barrel.

"You sayin' I should kill her?" he asked, looking over at Daryl. "I mean it, are you going to try to pull something on us? Are we just being thick here by not removing all doubt? Right now, by me not pulling this trigger, is that a mistake?"

He waited for an answer, but Daryl remained quiet.

"I'm serious, I really want to know." The man prompted. "You made the choice to kill for someone else, to have them own you for a roof over your head and three squares, so maybe I'm not considering all aspects here. Tell me, am I being stupid."

"No." Daryl finally said. "Look, we got somewhere to be. We can make a deal, we can help you out."

"You're both part of _them_. You're both hurt, you're alone, and you'll say anything. We should have never trusted you people to begin with. Go home. Keep moving."

The gun followed us as we both walked forward.

"Don't egg them on," I mumbled quietly to Daryl. He turned to me with a smirk. It's pretty easy to smirk when you don't have a gun in your face every five seconds.

I guess they didn't much like the direction we were taking, because the blonde man grabbed both of us by our shirt collars and steered us a different way. He kept his hands there, pushing us along, until we made a break through some trees.

Before us was a chain link fence with several trucks inside, and walkers milling about.

"Holy shit," the man whispered, letting go of both me and Daryl to walk forward. The two women followed his lead. The brunette dropped her bag.

"Patty," the man said, watching the walkers through the fence and sounding distraught.

"She could be…" the dark haired woman began, but she let her sentence fade away.

"No, she's gone." He insisted.

"Then we make another plan," the brunette said, sounding sure of herself.

"No, we get out of here, that's the plan."

"Then that's the plan."

"You guys don't have to do this for me," the blonde said. Do what? I was still entirely unsure of their intent, being out in this forest and thinking we were part of some entity following them.

"Look, it's the right thing for all of us," the brunette told her.

"This is the right thing? Even if just you guys went back now, you could've just told them it was just me." The blonde woman was trying to talk them into leaving her. Maybe she had a thing for martyrdom.

"No, we'll find a way."

"Just think about it."

"Well, look, maybe we don't get as far…" The blonde man started, but the blonde woman began to slump over.

"Hey, hey! Tina!" the brunette yelled as she fell. Daryl leaned down and grabbed the bag the brunette had dropped.

"Go go go," Daryl whispered.

"Hey! Stop!" the man yelled after us, but we were off. As best as I could with my tied hands, I grabbed onto Daryl's arm so he would keep pace with me. I didn't mean to be, but I was going faster than he was.

The man fired his gun, shooting after us. I knew he would.

"Did he get you?" I asked as we ran.

"Nah. You?"

"I'm good. Keep going."

We ran through the forest, carrying the bag together. It would have been hard to carry alone with our hands tied the way they were.

"We gotta stop," Daryl said after a while. I wasn't going to argue with him. My legs were shaking and my heart felt like it very well could escape my chest.

We sat by a log. Daryl got the rope off of his hands and then pulled mine free.

They had taken Daryl's crossbow and my gun and both of our knives, but not the walkie-talkie either. Daryl picked it up and tried to make contact.

"Sasha? Abraham? You there?" We got nothing back but radio silence.

There were footsteps behind us. I turned my head back to look.

"Walker," I told Daryl. I wasn't sure how we would handle it without any weapons at all.

Daryl made a face and started rummaging through the bag. I stood up, but I wasn't really sure what I would do. The walker was getting closer and closer. I glanced at Daryl, he was struggling to pull something out of the bag.

Just in time, he pulled his crossbow from the bag and rolled onto his back, easily shooting the walker.

I let out my breath in a sigh of relief and sat down beside him. Daryl leaned forward and kissed me.

"You good?" He asked

"Yeah, I'll make it." I answered, trying to give him a smile.

"Let's see what else is in here."

Daryl moved the fabric of the bag, which was partially obscuring a box. It was red and white, so initially I thought it was just a standard medical kit. But as Daryl pulled it out, the word 'insulin' was revealed.

"Oh, shit, she's diabetic," I groaned, referring to the blonde woman and how she had fallen. Now it made since why the brunette had insisted she drink and refused to leave her.

Daryl looked over at me. He didn't even have to say anything, I knew we were in agreement. That woman would die without the insulin.

We had to take it back.


	43. Chapter Forty-Two

**_Chapter Forty-Two_**

* * *

We took what was ours out of the bag and then I slung it over my shoulder. Daryl had his crossbow at the ready. I really didn't _want_ to go find those people again, but I knew neither of us could live with taking the insulin. It would mean that girl would die, and neither of us, nor anyone in Alexandria, had any use for insulin.

"We give it back, and then we're outta there," Daryl mumbled, leading the way. "Walk quietly and stay behind me."

It was easy to be quiet in the burned forest, where the thick layers of ash cushioned our feet. Not even stepping on branches made much noise because they were too burned to snap. They crumbled under weight instead.

Daryl backtracked the way we'd come. Our new friends were easy to find. They hadn't gone far into the forest, probably because the blonde woman couldn't make it far.

"Drop the gun!" Daryl commanded as we came upon them. He had his crossbow trained on them.

The blonde man ignored him, standing and pointing the gun at us.

"Drop it!" Daryl repeated.

Daryl walked forward carefully, crossbow still raised, and reached a hand out for the gun. "Give it to me."

He passed the gun back to me and I raised it. I had my gun back, but why use my own bullets if I don't have to?

"Came all this way, what you got in the duffel…you put us through too much shit to just give it back. It's the principle of the thing. What you got besides this gun?"

"Nothing," the brunette woman said, shaking her head.

"What's that thing you were carvin'?"

The blonde man pulled a little carved wooden figure out of his pocket.

"My grandfather taught me," he said.

"Don't care," Daryl snapped. "It'll do."

Daryl put the little figure in his pocket and motioned to me. I tossed the duffel towards the three strangers.

"Take it," I told them. They were looking at it suspiciously. "It's all there. We only took what was ours."

"Good luck, you're gonna need it," Daryl told them, turning to leave. We needed to find Sasha and Abraham. If not them, then our way back home at least.

But before we could make our leave, there was a great noise. Daryl grabbed my jacket sleeve and pulled me down. He had dropped to a crouch at the noise, partially hidden behind some foliage, his crossbow aimed towards the sound.

The sound was a vehicle. Through the gaps in the trees and other plants, I could see it making its way through the woods. The vehicle stopped, and some people exited it. Neither of us could see their top halves from where we were, just their legs.

"Let's end this," and unfamiliar man's voice said.

"It's ours. We _earned_ what we took!" the brunette woman called back to the voice.

"You're gonna return what you took, you're gonna pay for the gas it took to come out here and for all this time these men took out. It's over. You know the rules." The same voice answered her.

"Your rules are batshit!"

"We're not going back, Wade!" The blonde man shouted. "We're done kneeling!"

"Don't change the subject asshole," the voice, Wade, said.

There was a whistle and the vehicle started moving forward again. From what could be seen through the woods, there was a lot of people. A lot more than the five we had, assuming the three strangers would want to help us.

Daryl stood and grabbed my hand. The other three were trying to get away, but the blonde woman was obviously still weak. They had to support her.

"Hey, hey," Daryl said to them quietly. "That way."

We pointed which way for them to go, to follow us.

I let go of Daryl's hand and pulled the blonde woman to her feet.

"C'mon," I told her, wrapping my arm around her waist. "We gotta go, it looks like."

She was very light. I'm pretty positive I was more dragging her along than she was keeping up. The blonde man was leading, followed by the brunette woman. Daryl was just ahead of us.

We ran until the blonde man stopped at a little shelter-like place constructed of branches. He and the brunette woman stopped. They seemed familiar with the place. I helped the blonde woman sit down and then I took the gun we'd taken from them out of my waistband.

"Here," I said, holding it out for the blonde man. "Take it. Y'all need it."

We all hid behind the little structure.

"Keep your eyes open. Cover your quadrants. Go to alpha check." Wade's voice sounded in the forest. It sounded like it was coming over a radio.

Not far from our hiding spot was a walker, not burned and not too terribly decomposed, stuck behind a rock. It was making a growling racket as walkers typically did.

Also not far from our hiding spot was a man making his way through the forest. He was likely the source of Wade's voice over a radio device. There was no way he wasn't with the people who were after our forest friends, and now, us, by association.

Daryl took a branch in his hand and shook it. The noise caught the man's attention and he started walking toward it…but before he got to us, he walked right into the reach of the trapped walker.

"Idiot," I mumbled as the man began to scream. Before he could do the walker in, it got a bite out of the man's arm.

"Wade, I'm bit!" he began to yell. "Wade, I'm bit!"

This Wade came running out of the forest.

"Take it off me." The bit man begged. Wade took his belt off and made a tourniquet around the man's upper arm. "Just do it."

Wade did it alright, taking the man's arm off just above the elbow. The man yelled and sobbed, but it was a great distraction. They didn't even notice us.

"Time to go home," Wade told someone over his radio. "Cam got a boo-boo."

"You sure?" A radioed voice asked.

"Oh, yeah," Wade answered. "He only wanted to take this so far. He only wants those who are willing, you know?"

Wade took the watch off of Cam's amputated arm and then threw the arm away.

"C'mon, Cam," Wade said, hauling him up. "Let's walk it off."

I looked over at our companions. The whole time Wade was playing doctor, so was the brunette woman. She was administering insulin for the blonde woman.

"We thought you were with them," The blonde man said to us. "We knock y'all over the head, tie you up, threaten to kill you…Why the hell did y'all come back?"

"Maybe we're stupid, too," Daryl said at the same time I said "She would've died if we didn't."

Stupid or not, we did come back, and it was a good thing we did. And we stayed with them. There is safety in numbers, and I think we all understood that.

After the insulin, the blonde woman was stronger. I hung back, staying near Daryl as we walked.

"So you knew 'em and thought we were with 'em?" Daryl asked the blonde man as we walked.

"Where we were, we were there since the beginning and we still didn't know everyone. Back when we first threw in with them, it was as good a place as any. As things got harder, people got harder. Human nature kicked in and it became a truly unique kind of shit show."

"People will trade anything for safety, for knowing that they're safe." The brunette woman threw in.

"Everything, so that they've got nothing left except just… existing."

"Ain't nobody safe anymore." Daryl told them. How well we knew that. No matter where we'd gone, or the people we'd met, there was always a danger somewhere. "Can't promise people that anyhow."

"You can promise the people who want to hear it." The blonde man's words made me think of the Governor and his army, of the Claimers, of Terminus. Desperate people, the ones who need something to cling to, they will believe anything.

I glanced at Daryl. Even though there were no words spoken between us, from the look in his blue eyes, I could tell he was thinking the same things.

The blonde woman suddenly ran ahead of us.

"Hey, Tina, wait up!" The blonde man called after her. So I had heard right earlier, her name _was_ Tina. One out of three.

Tina didn't listen. She ran straight to a house, or what _used_ to be a house. All that remained were the bones of the structure. Everything else had fallen away.

"Carla and Delly. That's them."

"Me and Tina used to babysit them when they were kids," the brunette woman explained. She and Tina were sisters, probably, or at least good friends. "Everyone said they went out north when it all started. We didn't know."

The bodies were not burned, like everything else in the forest. They were wrapped in some kind of material, the heads encased in plastic. Bound. Murdered. It made my stomach turn.

"That's sick," I mumbled.

"Who did this?" The blonde man asked no one in particular.

"We did this," the brunette woman said. She didn't mean they literally bound these people; she meant they caused them to find this fate by not searching for them and helping them.

I don't know where Tina managed to find them, because I was paying more attention to the bodies than I was to her, but she had a bouquet of yellow flowers. She walked slowly towards the bodies.

I guess she didn't expect them to have turned. That was stupid of her, and it proved to be a fatal mistake. As Tina crouched to place the flowers with the bodies, it gave the walkers reason to move.

They frightened Tina, and even though they were not particular fast walkers, they still got a few bites out of her when she fell right on top of them.

As Tina screamed and cried for help, Daryl and I moved forward immediately. He took one walker while I got the other, each of us driving our knives deep into their skulls.

That took care of the walkers, but as for Tina… both walkers had taken chunks out of her neck. There was nothing that could be done.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the brunette sobbed as she cradled Tina's head.

Daryl and I backed away, letting them have their space to grieve.

"We brought that insulin back for nothin'," Daryl whispered to me. I elbowed him in the side.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "But we had to."

We both knew neither of us could have lived with stealing the insulin.

Daryl helped the blonde man dig Tina and the other two graves while I sat with the brunette woman. Neither of us said a word, but she let me hold her hand. She clung to mine, her only sign of grief as she was now sitting dry eyed and staring blankly.

Her hands were sticky. They were coated in Tina's blood.

"Hey," Daryl said to the blonde man. "How many walkers've you killed?"

I looked up in surprise. Daryl was asking him Rick's questions, the once that decided if you got to join us or not.

"Just answer the question," Daryl said when the blonde man didn't immediately reply.

"A lot," the man said, clearly annoyed. "A couple dozen, at least."

"How many people have you killed?"

"None."

"Why?"

"Why haven't I killed anybody? Because if I did, there'd be no goin' back. There'd be no goin' back to how things were."

"We're from a place where people are still like they were. More or less, for better or worse."

The blonde man looked at Daryl but stayed quiet before returning to his grave digging.

Even though he didn't reply to Daryl's offer, I knew Daryl would want to take them back. It was dangerous out there for them, they had obviously pissed off someone bigger and more powerful than themselves.

After the graves were dug and Tina and the others buried, I helped the brunette woman to her feet.

"It's nice where we're from," I told her. "And safer than out here."

She didn't reply in any way.

We led them back to the spot where we'd hidden Daryl's bike.

"We can walk from here, meet up with our friends. They have a car, you can ride with them," Daryl was telling our companions. We had every intention of letting them come home to Alexandria with us.

"How many friends did you say there were?" The blonde man asked.

His tone made me turn to him.

"He didn't." I said carefully, watching them while Daryl was retrieving the bike. "There's two of them."

"Where are they?"

"We're gonna find out," Daryl said confidently.

"H-how do you even know they got away, that they didn't get taken?"

"I don't."

Daryl was not paying much attention to them, his back turned trustingly. Even though Daryl was walking forward with the bike, I stood still, watching the other two. I saw the brunette woman nod to the blonde man.

The blonde man's arm moved to the gun I had returned to him. I drew mine out faster than he got his.

"Don't even think about it," I told him, glaring as he trained his gun on Daryl.

Daryl turned to look back at us. He didn't even have time to pull his crossbow.

Even though I had my gun on the blonde man, I knew he could shoot Daryl just as quickly as I could shoot him. I was _not_ going to risk Daryl's life.

I think the blonde man knew that.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Give her the crossbow and the gun."

"You gonna go back?" Daryl asked him. "So you'll be safe?"

"Shut up!"

"Ain't nowhere safe no more."

"Give her the crossbow," the man said again, more sternly.

"You gonna kneel?"

The man moved his gun ever so slightly and shot the tree directly behind Daryl. A warning shot.

Daryl gave the brunette woman the crossbow and nodded to me. I gave her my gun.

"This is bullshit," I told them. "We were going to help you."

They got on top of Daryl's bike. The brunette woman threw some medical supplies at us.

"Patch yourselves up." I had completely forgotten our road rash. "Sorry."

"You're gonna be." Daryl told them.

This time, at least, we had our knives. We weren't totally defenseless, like the last time they had tried to take the upper hand.

They drove away on Daryl's bike.

"We're not helping people anymore," I said angrily as I watched them drive away. Daryl stood beside me, the little figure he'd taken in his hand.

"Suits me fine," he agreed.

We walked back through the forest the way we had come. Back at the spot where we'd laid on the forest floor, Daryl found some sort of sign buried in the ground.

_AA Pattrick Fuel Company, _the sign read.

I don't know how Daryl knew just from that sign in the dirt, but we found a truck from the same company hidden in some branches.

There was a walker in the truck, easily taken care of. Luckily, the damn thing started.

"Let's go find Abraham and Sasha," Daryl said, placing his hands on my waist and lifting me into the truck cab.

"Sounds like a good plan to me."

Abraham and Sasha were surprisingly easy to find—mostly because they had carved DIXON into the door of the building they were hiding in. That made me chuckle, as did the way Abraham was dressed.

"You look snazzy," I told him. He dusted off his front.

"You like my new duds? Sasha here isn't a big fan of them."

"Where's your stuff?" Sasha asked, looking around.

"We made some friends," Daryl said, opening the door of the truck cab for her.

"Yeah, they were jerks," I added.

It became clear that the truck cab seat was fit for three people, not four. Daryl let Abraham take over driving duties and settled me onto his lap.

We were mostly quiet as we drove towards home. Daryl tried to radio Rick.

"Rick, you there? Anyone?" Daryl asked. He was holding the walkie-talkie in on hand, while his other had a tight grip around my waist.

A garbled noise came from the other end of the line.

"Say it again?"

This time a voice said very clearly, "Help."

"Oh shit, that's Eugene!" Abraham said, looking over at us as he drove.

We were all very quiet after that. I'm sure we all had only one thing on our minds: getting home, and helping whatever was going on there.


	44. Chapter Forty-Three

**_Chapter Forty-Three_**

* * *

Soon the silence in the car became deafening. Abraham asked about the friends we'd made while we were all separated.

"They were real good buds," Daryl mumbled. He was trying, in the cramped space of the cab, to look at the road rash on my leg. As we'd been with our new friends, and then trying to find our real friends, we didn't really have time for some first aid care.

I knew there wasn't any gravel or anything in there, but Daryl wanted to make sure.

"Yeah, they were super fun. Knocked us out, pointed guns at us. Stole our stuff. We stole it back, but they had a diabetic girl with them and when we took our stuff we accidentally took her insulin, too. We tried to be good people. Gave her insulin back, even though she promptly got bit by walkers like five minutes later. Tried to help them, offered to bring them back with us, and then they stole our stuff again. True pals."

Sasha blew her breath. "They were jerks."

"Well, with Abraham's new get-up, I don't think anyone will wanna be our friends now, so at least we got that going for us."

Abraham chuckled.

"You're all just jealous I'm out-shinin' you."

Obviously, from Eugene's voice on the radio, something bad was happening at home. But sometimes you need a distraction, especially when leading the lives we were. Even if the banter was inappropriate for the situation, we _needed _it. I don't think we would stay sane without trying to fake normalcy every now and then.

"What were y'all doin'?" Daryl asked, finally unbending himself and having decided my leg would be fine until we got home.

"We had a much easier time of things, compared to you two. Just locked up in that building. Abraham made more use of it than I did. He got a new outfit, all I got was a crick in my neck from sleeping on the floor," Sasha told us.

We were all pretty calm on the outside, but just under the surface, you could tell we were all tensed. I was pulling on the curls at the end of my braid. Daryl was picking at the loose strings of fabric on my torn jeans. Abraham's brow was drawn up in a scowl as he stared down the road. Ever so slightly, Sasha's foot was tapping softly on the floorboard.

Every so often, Daryl would try the radio again. All we were getting back was silence. I think we all assumed it was the mass of walkers.

Our easy, straight shot home was interrupted by a group of men on motorcycles.

We saw them long before we had to stop before them in the road.

"Oh, great, more new friends," I mumbled. Everyone was on the defensive immediately, even though we were still in the vehicle.

Daryl and I only had knives. Sasha and Abraham were better armed…plus we had an RPG, which Abraham found while at the building he and Sasha were at. I really wasn't sure _how _we would use that—it wasn't exactly easily concealed—but it was something, I suppose.

These men, they were just waiting in formation. I knew they had to be a part of the group following our burned forest friends. Maybe _we_ weren't who they were waiting for, but they _were _waiting for someone.

Abraham stopped the truck when we were just a few feet away from the men.

"Why don't you come on out?" The man at the front of the biker gang formation said, motioning with his hand for us to do as he said. "Join us in the road."

There was more of them than there was of us. We didn't have much choice. Sasha and Abraham got out of one side of the truck. Daryl set me on my feet after opening the door, then got out to stand beside me.

"Oh, this is great. Going well right out of the gate. Now step two: hand over your weapons."

Well, there went our knives.

"Why should we?" Daryl asked. Oh, he was in a bad mood that day. So confrontational, even when we didn't have anything to back it up. It was a wonder we didn't die five times over.

"Well, because they're not yours," the man in front, who I was certain was their leader, said happily. He reminded me of Joe and the Claimers.

"Whose are they?" Sasha asked.

"Your property," the leader said, stepping forward, "now belongs to Negan. Now, if you can get your hands on a tanker, you're people our person wants to know. So let's get those side arms, shall we?"

_ What the hell kind of name is Negan? _I remember thinking.

"Right now," the man said, motioning with his hand like we were dogs.

He walked towards me and Daryl. I shook my head, but Daryl reached into the back on his jeans' waistband. I had forgotten entirely that he'd brought a handgun, just in case. There I was thinking we were barely armed, and Daryl had something. Not that it mattered in that moment.

"Thank you," he said to Daryl, happy as can be.

Then he turned to me, hand out expectantly. He was waiting for me to place a gun in his hand. I shook my head again.

"I don't _have _one," I snapped at him, pointing to my empty leg holster.

He regarded me with a cold look, eyes sweeping me from head to toe, before walking over to Abraham and Sasha.

"Thank you," he said with a smile when Sasha handed hers over.

Abraham, however, stood rigid. He was much taller than the other man, and Abraham looked down at him coolly.

"If you have to eat shit," the man said to Abraham, "best not to nibble. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. Goes quicker."

Reluctantly, Abraham reached under his jacket and gave the man the gun from his holster. The man mouthed 'thank you' to him and smiled again at Sasha.

"Who are you people?" Sasha asked.

"I get the curiosity, but we have questions ourselves. And we'll be the ones asking them while driving you back to wherever it is that you call home." He handed one of the confiscated guns to a man with long, stringy black hair.

"Take a gander at where you hang your hats. First, though, your shit. What have you got for us?"

"Yeah, you just took it," Daryl snapped at him. I shot him a look. He really needed to stop this sassing. We weren't really in a position for it. Not that I had much room to talk, but still.

"C'mon. I mean, can we not? Okay? There's more. There is _always_ more."

When we all stood our ground instead of hopping to giving those men all the stuff we really didn't have, the leader sighed.

"T, take my man to the back of the truck. Start inside the back bumper, work your way to the front."

This T came forward. He shoved Daryl by the shoulder, muttering 'go'. I wasn't that worried, even though T had a gun and Daryl did not. In a one-on-one fight, my money was always on Daryl.

"Bite, chew, swallow, repeat," the leader said again as I exchanged a look with Sasha.

"Who's Negan?" Abraham asked. The leader cocked the gun in his hand, pointing it at Abraham.

"Ding dong, hell's bells," he said in a singsong. I rolled my eyes. These guys were really cocky if they had time for theatrics. "You see, usually, we introduced ourselves with just poppin' one of you right off the bat, but you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you're sportin' dress blues for Christ sake!"

The leader took some time to chuckle.

"And like I said, we're gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone who's friend or friends you've just killed?" He rolled his eyes back into his head. "But I told you not to ask any questions, and then what does this ginger do? So that's that. I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me."

He moved his finger, fully ready to shoot. Abraham stood stock still, ready to face the fate. But Sasha spoke up.

"Wait! Wait. You don't have to do this."

The leader pulled another gun out, pointing one at Sasha and one at Abraham. Following the leader, the black haired man who had been given one of our guns pointed it at me. I hadn't even _said _anything.

Sasha and Abraham exchanged some words that I couldn't hear since I was on the other side of the truck.

"No," the leader said. Obviously he could hear them from where he stood. "You're not."

The guns were again trained on all of us, fingers on triggers, ready to shoot. But then, the leader lowered his guns from Abraham and Sasha. The black haired man followed suit and lowered his gun from me.

"I'm not going to kill you!" He said, like it was all a big joke. "Wait. Wait. You know what? Yes I am."

The words barely left his mouth when there was an explosion of fire and flames where the bikers sat. Abraham's RPG!

The blast knocked me flat on my ass, not that I was complaining. Daryl came from the back of the truck, the now empty launcher in his hands.

"You good, darlin'?" he asked, reaching a hand down and hauling me up. His voice sounded far away due to the ringing in my ears from the blast.

"I'm fine. You're the coolest," I said as Abraham and Sasha made our way towards us. Once on my feet, I could see the body of the man who was sent to the back of the truck with Daryl laying on the ground.

"Son of a bitch was tougher than he looks," Daryl said of the dead man. When Daryl turned his back, I saw blood streaming down his vest.

"Did he cut you?" I asked, gingerly pulling on the fabric to see how bad it was.

"A little," Daryl said. It looked deep enough for stitches, but not bad enough to have hurt anything other than skin and muscle. I sighed in relief. Still, I pulled the rag out of Daryl's pocket and pressed it to his back. "What a bunch of assholes."

"Let's get you fixed up at home," I told him.

"Yes, ma'am," Daryl gave me a smirk.

We all made our way to get back into the truck, so we could finish our trek home.

"Nibble on that," Abraham gloated to the still-burning, dismembered biker gang.

It felt like it just didn't end. The adrenaline and euphoria of not dying was soon tainted once we were on the road again.

Inside the cab of the truck, everyone settled, Daryl tried the radio again.

"Eugene? Rick? Glenn? Anyone?"

Nothing but static in response.

We still had something to face at home.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Hey, y'all! I just want to give a shout-out to **galwidanatitud **for posting reviews on pretty much every chapter of this fic. You the bomb...or the RPG Daryl Dixon uses to detonate Negan cronies, you pick.


	45. Chapter Forty-Four

**_Chapter Forty-Four_**

* * *

The ambush from two days ago, when the four of us got split up, set us a lot farther back from home than we had thought. Plus our conversation with the biker gang had taken some time, too.

It was already nearly nightfall before we even saw the familiar landmarks a miles out from Alexandria.

While sitting comfortably on Daryl's lap, my mind was racing. I was using all of our most recent encounters to distract myself over what was possibly going on at home.

I had a lot of questions. Who was Negan? Why was he such an asshat? Were the blonde man and his companions running from Negan? Those other people in the burned forest, who were looking for the blonde man and his companions, were they with Negan?

"I wish some of those guns had survived the explosion," Sasha said, breaking our silence. I glanced over at her. _Nothing_ had survived the blast of the RPG. If anything had, especially one of the motorcycles, I had no doubt Daryl would have taken it.

"If any had, at least we'd have a paddle in this shit creek, but looks like we're gonna have to get our hands dirty," Abraham said, turning from the road long enough to wink at Sasha.

I felt Daryl's warm breath on the back of my neck when he snorted at Abraham's assessment of our situation. I leaned back against Daryl a little and his arm tightened around my waist. We were close to home, but the sun was completely down by that point. We weren't going to make it before the last of the light went away.

"We'll be okay," Daryl said softly, joining me in looking out the window.

But not much time later, when we made it to the outskirts of Alexandria, Daryl had a very different sentiment.

"Oh fuck," he said quietly.

"This here is shit creek at it's finest," Abraham enthused. He had slowed the truck to a crawl.

There were walkers _everywhere_. Not just outside Alexandria; the wall was down.

"What are we gonna do?" I asked. Short of covering ourselves in walker guts, I didn't know how we were going to get through the mass of walkers.

"You two keep the truck, find a way to distract these sonsabitches. Me and Sasha will make our way inside."

"We should probably stay—" I began to say, but Abraham had already opened the driver's side door and he was pulling Sasha out behind him. Out of the truck, Abraham pulled off the dress blues jacket he wore, tossing it away from them.

It actually distracted a few walkers and they started following the piece of clothing.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled, sliding me off his lap so he could close the door Abraham left open and take the wheel. We watched Abraham and Sasha run, armed with nothing but knives, through a crowd of walkers.

Sasha bent down and grabbed something off the ground. When she stood up, she handed Abraham something. I realized they were armed once they started swinging the guns and using them to crush walker heads and save their bullets.

"Look," I said pointing to the top of the wall. "There's people up there."

They were silhouetted against the sky, darker, solid shapes compared to the night stars.

"Guess we better get over there, if that's where Abraham and Sasha are headin'." Daryl pointed to the two of them, scaling the wall. When we got closer to the wall, it was easy to see the two stuck on top had been Maggie and Enid, a girl around Carl's age.

Daryl pulled the truck close to the wall so that Abraham, Sasha, Maggie, and Enid could use it to climb from the wall to the ground. Glenn, already on the ground, came over to the truck. He opened the door and slid in beside me and Daryl. It wasn't safe on the ground, without cover.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl asked Glenn. He was sweaty and covered in blood, though Glenn didn't appear to be injured.

"I-I don't know, I just got back," Glenn told us. Daryl and I both shot him looks. What did he mean he'd just gotten back? He looked like he'd been in one hell of a fight.

"Listen, we can lead some of them away, but they're scattered."

"Nah," Daryl told him. "We'll get them all together, won't have to lead them away."

"What are you thinking?" I asked. Daryl smirked and raised a fist, hitting the ceiling of the truck to get the others' attention.

"You'll see."

This was Daryl's plan: Light the little pond just inside of Alexandria on fire, to draw the walkers to it.

He drove slowly, so as not to knock down everyone sitting on top. We didn't have time to get everyone inside the cab, not with all the walkers thick around us. When we were close enough, Daryl turned the truck around so he could back it up flush with the pond.

"Y'all cover me," he said to me and Glenn before hopping out.

The others slid down from the top of the truck. While Daryl poured out some of the gasoline from the truck, to use to light the pond on fire, the rest of us got busy killing walkers.

"Where were you?" I asked Glenn, kicking the walker I had just killed out of my way.

"Under a dumpster," he said to me with a sheepish grin.

"Oh. Well, you'll have to tell me the rest of that story later," I told him with a laugh.

Abraham was close beside Daryl while he crouched, filling the pond with gasoline. I wasn't worried about him.

"Alright, everyone in!" Daryl yelled. When I got back to the truck, he took my hand, pulling me up.

"You come with me." We climbed to the top of the truck. There, Daryl had another RPG. So _that _is how he planned to light the little pong on fire. Daryl tapped the hood of the truck again and someone started driving forward.

"That's good!" Daryl shouted when we'd gone a few feet. Whoever was driving stopped the truck.

Daryl motioned for me to stand up with him. He positioned himself behind me, arms coming around me. It reminded me of when he was teaching me to use the crossbow.

"This is gonna kick," he told me, positioning my hands on the launcher of the RPG. He aimed it where he wanted it and told me to pull the trigger.

Daryl wasn't wrong; the kick of the RPG slammed me against him, but Daryl stood strong. We didn't fall.

I couldn't help the laugh that followed. The ensuing fire from the blast was fast-moving and truly awing.

"That was so fucking cool," I said, watching the flames erupt. Daryl placed a kiss on my temple.

"I think you might be one of those people that like fire a little too much, darlin'."

We watched for a moment as the walkers started to notice the fire. The usual mob mentality of the walkers was taking effect: as soon as enough noticed the fire and started toward it, they _all_ started toward the flames.

"We better get to work," I told Daryl. Everyone had already vacated the truck to go into the thick of the walkers and start taking them out. Daryl hopped down from the vehicle first, then helped me down.

Everyone who was armed and able was down on the ground, killing as many walkers as quickly as they could. It didn't take long to get separated from Daryl, but I saw plenty of our other people.

"This is insane," I told Carol when I managed to bump into her.

"You don't know the half of it, Livy. Watch out." Carol stomped on the head of a walker I hadn't noticed, before it could get a bite out of my leg.

I was surprised—and impressed—to see Father Gabriel and Eugene in the fray. They were both holding their own.

Some people had bats and pieces of pipe. Of course, Morgan had his staff, quickly and easily taking out walkers left and right.

To say there were a thousand walkers would probably be a gross understatement. I honestly cannot say how many there were, only that they would not stop coming. My arm grew numb from the repetitive actions of shanking walkers in the head.

And as if it wasn't hard enough to be fighting walkers in the dead of night, there were billows of thick, black smoke now coming from the pond and just making everything harder.

The sky was getting light by the time we were done. All over the streets, walker bodies lay strewn about, with puddles of blood all around them. Everyone was covered in blood as we gathered around one of the houses that was apparently the infirmary.

"You need stitches," I reminded Daryl when he came to sit beside me on the deck.

"And you need to clean that out," he said, pointing to the road rash on my thigh. I had forgotten about it, but all the action of the night had irritated it and made it worse than it had been before.

We made our way inside, where a blonde girl with glasses was checking on Maggie. I hadn't realized Maggie had been hurt.

"I can clean myself up, but Daryl needs stitches," I said, before Daryl could try to get out of it. I found some hydrogen peroxide and took a seat beside Glenn.

"What happened to Maggie?" I asked, pouring the peroxide onto a cloth and dabbing it on my leg.

"Nothing," Glenn said, smiling wider than I'd seen since the prison. "But she's pregnant, so Denise was checking her up just to make sure everything is okay."

I looked up from my road rash.

"No shit, dude?" I asked and he smiled, nodding. I put the rag down and hugged Glenn. When I did, though, I noticed Michonne standing in a doorway, with Judith in her arms.

"What's going on over there?" I asked.

Glenn dropped his voice, throwing a glance at Michonne.

"Apparently Carl got caught by a bullet. It didn't kill him, but it took his eye out. It's still touch and go right now."

The happiness I felt about Glenn and Maggie's pregnancy news ran cold. I was thoroughly terrified of what would happen if Rick lost Carl. I sighed and looked through the doorway Michonne was leaning against, even though there was nothing to see but a closed door.

Abraham's analogy from earlier was right, we sure were up shit's creek. But when were we not? Everything else would be okay, because we could make it okay. We always did. The only wildcard was Carl, and if he would survive.


	46. Chapter Forty-Five

**_Chapter Forty-Five_**

* * *

Carl woke up, but he was in a lot of pain. We also didn't know how much damage was done internally, even though it appeared the bullet didn't enter his skull. Rather, it skimmed it, going just deep enough to destroy the eye and the socket.

After all the things we'd been through, all of us experiencing two days in various hells, there was a collective need for rest. As soon as Rick gave word that Carl would be okay, everyone retreated to their houses.

I sat on the kitchen floor with Daryl, each of us eating ravioli from a can because we were both too tired and hungry to take the time to heat it up. We watched the sun come up through the kitchen window.

"Well at least our lives are never boring," I said, trying to find something good out of the last two days.

Daryl chuckled a little. "No, it ain't."

After we'd eaten, Daryl helped me peel my jeans away from my road rash. I made sure the stitches Denise had put into his back were clean and staying-our new doctor didn't have a lot of faith in her abilities, despite the fact she'd singlehandedly saved Carl's life. We fell into bed, too exhausted to even talk.

I did not wake up for many hours. When I did, it was under Daryl's arm, with my body pulled tight against his. I could tell from the sunlight coming in through the windows that it was night again.

Rick had told us to stay inside during the night until we got the wall fixed. I knew that advice was for the Alexandrians, not our group necessarily, but who was I to say different? We could start again in the morning. That was the plan anyway: a full day of rest, and then we get our lives back together.

I decided to roll over so that I faced Daryl, tucking my cheek close to his chest and wrapping my arm around his waist. The morning would come soon enough.

* * *

In the morning, it was Daryl who had to wake me. He had tried, and I hid my face under the covers, unwilling to leave my sleep.

"C'mon, Livy, get up," he said, trying to sound annoyed. But I could hear the amusement in his voice.

I blew my breath and pushed myself into a sitting position.

"Happy?" I asked, trying to make sense of my hair. It was everywhere after all that sleep. I felt Daryl's hands join mine in the mess that was my hair. He helped me right the wayward curls so that I could see.

"We got a lot of work to do now," Daryl reminded me. He was already dressed, except for his boots. When he turned his back to put them on, I saw the rip in the angel wing on his vest. I decided I would see it up for him, since he insisted on wearing the thing every day.

"Yeah, and a lot to be caught up on. We still don't even know what happened here." I threw the covers off. As I stood up, the stiff scabs from the road rash protested. It had scabbed up quickly, but it was annoying. I knew jeans would irritate it, so I opted to wear shorts.

"What's the plan for the day?" I asked Daryl, joining him in getting dressed.

"Already talked to Rick, he came by. He said he's gone break us all into groups. Some are gonna clear the streets, some are gonna dig graves, and some are gonna work on gettin' that wall back up."

"Did he say anything about Carl?"

Daryl stood up, done lacing his boots. His blue eyes glanced at me and then looked away, towards the ground.

"Rick said he was talkin' to Carl, and he don't remember some things. He thinks his mother is still alive, doesn't remember Judith at all. Rick said he woke up askin' why he wasn't on Hershel's farm anymore."

So there was some trauma to Carl's brain. He would have to relive so much, the death of friends and family, either because his memory returned or because someone filled him in with stories.

I realized Daryl was reliving it himself, thinking about Carl. His face was still smooth, but his eyes looked troubled. I stepped forward and hugged him, mindful of the stitches in his back. I felt his arms come around me to return the gesture.

Maybe it was the memories, or maybe it was everything we'd been through most recently. I don't know. But we stood there in our bedroom in Alexandria, arms wrapped tight around each other, for a very long time.

It felt good to remind myself that despite it all my life was still real. I was still solid. Daryl was still there. We were both okay, though a little worse for wear. We had a home, and friends who were like family, and we were okay.

Daryl pulled back a little to kiss me on the mouth.

He was right, we did have a lot of work to do. Faintly through the walls, I could hear other people talking and going by the house.

"Where are we supposed to meet everyone?" I asked.

"Gabriel's church."

"Well, let's go, then."

At Rick's meeting, we sat with Carol. She gave us a small smile, but something about the rest of her face made her seem worried. Or just off somehow. I wasn't really sure how to explain it, something about her just didn't seem entirely okay.

"I'm gonna start this by telling you the worst of it," Rick said once everyone was in the church.

"Some of you weren't here for all of it, so I'll backtrack a little. While my crew was out dealing with the walker horde, Alexandria was attacked by people with _W_'s carved in their foreheads. These people called themselves the Wolves. Their attack drew the attention of the walkers we were trying to get rid of. As you can imagine, things went south here. We lost a lot of people, one of which was Deanna."

I hadn't known about that. There wasn't a lot of time for talking while we were dealing with all the walkers in our home. With Deanna dead…that meant Alexandria was _ours_. Rick would be the leader absolutely.

"We'll deal with what that means later. Right now, we need to get this place cleaned up and make it safe again. We need graves dug for the people we've lost. We need to clear these streets, get rid of these walker bodies. We need to get something done about our wall where it's fallen. I've broken everyone up into crews so we can get all of this handled as quickly as possible. Everyone's names are up here, written under where you'll be working."

Daryl and Glenn were assigned to dig graves. Eugene was put in charge of figuring out the best way to fix the wall, with a crew of people to make it happen. A lot of us, myself and Carol included, were assigned to clearing the streets of the walkers.

That made sense, because the walkers were littered _everywhere._

"Maggie's name wasn't on any of these lists," Carol said, her eyes scanning over the three sheets of paper.

"Oh, hey, surprise. Maggie's pregnant." I expected Carol to look surprised. I'd certainly been a little taken aback. But when Carol glanced up at me, _I _was the one surprised to see the anger plain on her face.

She didn't comment on it, though. Instead she turned and pushed her way through the crowds.

Most of the people working on cleanup were Alexandria natives. One of their supply runners, Heath, was working with us.

"Hey, you," he said, catching me by the shoulder as I was trying to get out of the church and follow Carol. "Any idea what Rick wants us to do with the bodies?"

"Um, well, we usually burn the walkers. Y'know, to get rid of them. We'll have to be careful, though, when we're moving bodies. So that some of ours don't get in the wrong pile. Do you, uh, know who we should be looking for?"

"Yeah, Denise gave me a list. She wrote down everyone she hasn't seen. I know you guys are still pretty new, so if you aren't sure about one, ask us first before throwing a body in the burn pile."

"Will do, Heath," I told him. He gave me a perplexed look.

"You know my name? I don't know yours."

I smiled at him. "It's Livy. Don't feel bad, I was trying to learn everyone's names here…but I guess I'll have less names to learn now."

Somehow all the walkers and blood pooled in the streets looked worse in the sunlight than it did in the dark of night.

"There's so many…" Tara said behind me. I was standing on the curb in front of the church, watching Daryl, Glenn, and Gabriel pick their way across the body-laden streets to the little graveyard. "I don't even know how to start."

"Find all the ones with _W_'s in their foreheads first," I told her. "We know they're either a Wolf or a walker, and we don't want either of them. They'll go straight to the burn pile."

That actually did make it a little easier to sort through the mess. It gave us something to search for, putting a sense of organization on the whole thing. But the bodies with _W_'s in their heads only lasted so long.

"I think we should look for our own now," Heath said. All of us working on the cleanup had met in the middle of Alexandria once we had run out of _W _bodies. "The sooner we can get them in the ground, the better."

Then we were looking for bodies that weren't terribly decomposed, with decently clean clothes and chunks of flesh taken out of them due to walker bites.

These were a little harder to find, thanks to all the gore. I found Carol standing over a trio of bodies not far from each other, all wearing sheets covered in walker blood. _They _were definitely alive at one point. Two of them didn't have much left to them, but one was mostly untouched.

"His name was Ron, right?" I asked, pointing to the dead boy on the ground.

"Yeah," Carol said. "And that's his mom, Jessie. Right beside her is his little brother Sam."

I stood beside Carol for a moment. Again, she seemed off.

"Do you want some help moving them?" I asked.

"I told Sam that the monsters outside the walls would get him once. And they did."

Boy, did they. There was not a lot of Sam left. His little body showed skeleton in several places.

"I can take him for you, Carol. You don't have to."

Carol shook off the hand I tried to put on her shoulder.

"Yes, I do. You can get Jessie or Ron."

I didn't yet know that Jessie and her sons had been with Carl, Rick and Michonne, or that they were trying to move through the walker crowd and make it to safety. I didn't know that Sam had started crying, that it drew the attention of walkers, that they went down and Ron blamed Rick. I didn't know that Ron had tried to shoot Rick, that Michonne had stabbed him with her sword, and that Ron's bullet had missed Rick and gotten Carl instead.

If I had known, I don't know if I would have been able to pick up Ron's body and take it to the pile of our people, laying him carefully with his brother before going back to help Carol with Jessie.

When I heard the story from Michonne later, I thought the apple did not fall far from the tree in Ron's case.

It was all slow work. It was rebuilding, something we had done countless times but was new to Alexandria.

And the new Alexandria would be rebuilt to be stronger, because _we _would be running it.


End file.
